


Another Again

by Yosei_Ranbu



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Action, Comedy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, Eventual Romance, Gen, Minor Character Death, Time Travel Fix-It, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yosei_Ranbu/pseuds/Yosei_Ranbu
Summary: The second time Robin woke up in the field, he was crying.(Cross-post from fanfiction.net.)





	1. The Verge of History

" _There are better places to take a nap, you know._ "

Robin's eyes snapped open. He stared in disbelief at the person standing over him, taking brief note of the man's sister and attendant close-by, then quickly scrambled to his feet, tears streaming down his face.

Chrom blinked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just- Whoa!"

He was cut off abruptly as Robin lunged forward and embraced him tightly. "You're alive!" the tactician exclaimed exuberantly, unable to believe his senses. "You're alive, Chrom!" He pulled away, holding Chrom at arm's length. "...But how?! I saw you die! You, Lissa, Frederick, Lucina; all of you died, I _saw_ it, Chrom!"

Chrom simply stared at him with a look of intense confusion. "I... What? I'm sorry, but I'm not understanding a word of what you're saying. Could you start over? Tell me, who are you, and how exactly do you know me?"

Robin went rigid, an icy dread crawling up his spine. "...What?"

Frederick stepped forward. "Indeed, I must inquire as to how it is that you know all three of our names, stranger," he said sternly. "And why is it that you wear a Plegian coat?"

A cold sweat was threatening to break out on Robin's brow. "Is this some kind of joke? Because it's not funny, Frederick!"

"Agreed. The potential threat you pose to my charges is no laughing matter," the Knight Commander replied.

"Frederick! Don't sound like you're about to drag the poor guy through some sort of inquisition!" Lissa chided.

Robin staggered backward, now realizing that he was in the middle of a field. A far, far too familiar field. "No..." he murmured in disbelief as a horrible realization started to surface in his mind. He scrutinized the trio. Chrom looked a bit younger, and Frederick did as well. Lissa _definitely_ looked younger. His denial came louder. "No no no..."

Lissa and Frederick had begun bickering about something or other, but Robin ignored them and dazedly turned away and took a few steps, staring numbly up at a cloudy sky.

Flashes of remembrance sprang to mind.

_The wind howling on a dragon god's back._

_An endless sea of Risen and Grimleal fanatics. The legendary Deadlords, revived again for one last battle._

_Friends falling one by one, giving their lives for a future they would not see._

_He, Chrom, and Lucina breaking through the mob to confront the Fell Dragon himself._

_A fierce struggle against the god incarnate._

_Being forced to watch Grima use his doppelganger's body to cut down both exalts—first future-past, then present._

_Throwing himself in a rage at the monster, fighting like a man possessed against a man quite literally possessed._

_Striking the finishing blow against Grima, his hand cloaked in the Fell Dragon's own dark power as he shoved it through his other self's chest. Grima cursing him as his mirror-image disappeared._

_Racing to the sides of Chrom and Lucina, only to find cold and lifeless bodies. Searching the battlefield desperately to find at least one surviving Shepherd, and failing._

_Screaming, long and hard, before the void snatched his voice into silence._

And now he was here, three years in the past, as if none of their sacrifices had mattered. The injustice of it all was monstrous enough to put Grima himself to shame.

Robin jumped a bit as a hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Chrom. But not the Chrom he had known. Another, distinctly different Chrom, if Robin's theories on time travel were accurate.

"Are you alright?" Chrom asked in concern. "You're crying again."

"Huh?" Robin reached up and rubbed his eyes, realizing that Chrom was correct. "Ah. Sorry, it's just that-..." Robin began to tremble, tears welling up and spilling over once more. "Everyone died, Chrom." The tactician's voice was thick and cracking. "I couldn't save them. They're all gone." He sank to his knees and began to sob openly.

"Are you a refugee of some sort?" Chrom questioned. "Were you beset upon by bandits?"

But Robin gave no answer, too caught up in his grief to speak. Chrom stood silently over the man, patiently waiting for the shudders that wracked the stranger's body to subside. Frederick and Lissa soon joined the prince in vigil.

After some minutes, Robin managed to compose himself, and rubbed his face dry on the sleeve of his coat. He froze as his eyes fell on his right hand. He held it up to the sunlight, not daring to believe what he saw.

The Mark of Grima was gone.

Frederick cleared his throat. "Forgive me, stranger, but I still have a great many questions that need answering."

"...Ah," Robin replied noncommittally, still gazing at the unblemished back of his hand.

Grima was dead. It was the only explanation. At the very least, he could be sure that everything they had fought for had not been in vain—that the deaths of his friends had had meaning and purpose. Grima was well and truly dead.

_But what about in this world?_ Robin realized with a start.

"Let's start with proper introductions," Chrom suggested, smiling. "My name is Chrom. This is my sister, Lissa, and our protector, Frederick. But then, you seem to have already known all that."

"...I am Robin," the tactician replied. He held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Chrom."

Robin's voice was laden with irony. Chrom looked a bit confused at the tone, but he shook hands nonetheless.

"Let's move on to the more pressing issue, then, sir," Frederick said stiffly. "How is it that you know us?"

Robin did not reply immediately, staring off into the distance. A different Grima still slept in this world, Robin was sure of it. And he would be damned before he allowed that monstrosity to roam free. He wouldn't let it claim the lives of his friends yet again, not while there was a single breath left in his body.

Gangrel, Walhart, Validar, Grima. A series of plagues ready to be set loose upon the world. But unlike before, Robin knew exactly when they were coming, and in exactly which ways. He would stop them all. This time, he would save everybody.

"...What if I told you that I had seen the future? That I had been here with you all before, and would go on to be your comrade for years after?"

"I would say that you take me for a fool," Frederick replied.

Robin chuckled. "A predictable response from Frederick the Wary."

The Knight Commander raised his eyebrow at Robin's use of the nickname.

"...Well, you're not going to believe anything I say for a long time yet, but if I can convince _you_ , Chrom..." Robin continued, turning and pointing at the exalt. ( _No, prince_ , Robin corrected himself.) "...Then this is going to be a lot easier."

Chrom looked at the tactician skeptically. "Forgive me, friend, but it's going to take some doing to convince me that you hail from the future."

Robin smirked. "All in good time. Let's start off with things I couldn't possibly know unless I had been friends with you all for a long while. Chrom, you hate rhubarb, are banned from the royal art storehouse, and you once accidentally knocked a hole in the wall of Castle Ylisstol while sparring."

Chrom's eyes widened. "How did you know about that last one...?" He looked over to Frederick, who was raising an eyebrow at him. "What? ...What?!"

Robin turned to the young princess. "Lissa, you're paranoid that you're not lady-like enough, snort when you laugh, and are _as we speak_ plotting a way to dump a toad—no, actually a _frog_ —inside my coat's hood."

Lissa grinned. "Wow, you're good!" she exclaimed as she stealthily let an amphibian slip out of her grasp.

Frederick was beginning to grow agitated. "Enough of these games, sir. Any competent spy or saboteur could-"

"And as for _you_ ," Robin interrupted, jabbing his finger emphatically at Frederick, "You have a fear of large animals, a bizarre fixation towards fire, and are secretly in love with Emmeryn!"

Chrom and Lissa's jaws dropped, and Frederick's face became red as a beet as he began to splutter in shock. Robin nearly burst out laughing; he had _never_ seen Frederick blush before, not even once. And judging by their reactions, neither had Chrom nor Lissa.

"I... I think I might me starting to believe him," Lissa admitted.

"Is he right, Frederick?" Chrom asked.

"I-It is my sworn duty to protect L-Lady E-Emmeryn," Frederick blustered. "A knight c-could never allow h-himself to-"

"Naga above, he _is_ right," Chrom breathed, staring at his attendant in a new light.

"You're probably going to find yourself saying that a lot about me," Robin said smugly while idly inspecting his fingernails. He suddenly frowned. "Still, I feel like there's something I'm forgetting here... Oh shit! Southtown! We went to Southtown right after we met! Shit! Shit!"

"Robin?" Chrom asked.

"We need to get a move on. Now. Southtown is about to be attacked by bandits. Might even be happening as we speak."

"You expect us to believe such a claim?" Frederick growled, face still a tad pink. "How could you know of this without having a hand in it yourself?"

"Like I said, future. Seriously, it's going to save us all a lot of trouble if you just assume the answer to _How does he know that?_ is _Because he's from the future._ " Robin put his hand on his chin. "Or _Because he's a genius._ I got called that a lot." He shook his head. "Right, not the time for ego-stroking. We need to move. Civilians being slaughtered, buildings burning, all that."

Chrom nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

"Milord, I must object!" Frederick stated forcefully. "This could easily be a trap. We have no reason to trust this man."

"And if he speaks true? There may be people who need our help, Frederick. We can't turn a blind eye out of fear."

Frederick sighed. "I know that look and that tone well. Very well, milord, we shall go." He turned toward Robin. "But don't think for even a second that I will not be watching you like a hawk. And should anything happen to Prince Chrom-"

"You'll make me wish I had just passed away peacefully in my sleep here?" Robin asked.

Frederick narrowed his eyes, for this had been nearly verbatim what he had been about to say. Which of course, Robin knew from prior experience.

Robin grinned. "Just so long as we're on the same page."

* * *

An hour later, Chrom growled as he heaved against a bandit's axe with Falchion, struggling to break a stalemate. He twisted the blade, then sidestepped around the axeman's retaliatory swing, lunging low at the man's side. Falchion's tip caught the bandit's gut, causing him to snarl in pain. He immediately charged Chrom again, bringing his axe down in a blow that caused Chrom to strain as he countered it.

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the market, Robin casually parried a myrmidon's attack, then beheaded the man in one stroke with his silver sword.

"This is weird," the tactician muttered while he sheathed his weapon. Lissa crouching at his side as she gawked at the headless corpse. Robin folded his arms. "I remember this being a hell of a lot more difficult. I'm pretty sure we almost died two or three times apiece." He put his hands behind his head. It was possible that in comparison to himself and most everyone else from three years ago, he had simply become abnormally strong. He must not have noticed how drastic his improvement had been due to the constant escalation of his battles.

"...Hmm, I suppose bandits shouldn't be much of a concern for someone who's gone up against Deadlords..."

Lissa looked up at him quizzically. "Deadlords? You mean those things from fairytales?"

Robin snorted. "I wish. By the way, get used to the idea of animated dead, because those aren't going away anytime soon."

Suddenly, a bolt of electricity struck Robin's back. A bandit mage smiled, pumping his fist at an easy kill.

Then Robin turned around, and the assailant froze in place.

"That was cute," Robin grinned. "I almost felt that. Would you care for me to show you what being hit by _real_ magic feels like?" he asked as he drew his Thoron tome.

The bandit mage nearly soiled himself when he saw the B-Rank magic and sprinted away in a panic, as fast as his legs would carry him.

Robin smirked and put the Thoron tome away. Beside him, Lissa gaped in amazement. " _That was so cool!_ " the princess shouted. "But shouldn't you like, _zap_ that guy or something?" She pointed to the still-fleeing mage.

"Nah. He's lost the will to fight, and I don't fancy myself a murderer. Besides, if he still wants to go at it then I should probably have Chrom take him down. He's going to need experience fighting mages."

"Uh, ok. Do you need me to heal you?" Lissa asked, waving her staff.

"Believe me, I'd like for you to be able to, even if it was just a scratch. You need as much healing practice as you can get." Robin gestured to his uninjured back. "But I guess that my magical resilience has gotten so high that that attack did literally nothing to me." He shrugged, then tapped his finger on his chin. "Maybe I should have tossed that mage an Arcthunder tome to see if that would have let him do any better..."

Lissa gave him a strange look. "You say some weird things. You _wanted_ that guy to have been able to hurt you?"

"Well I mean, it's not like I'm a masochist or anything. Healing any little injury is just the most optimal way for you to gain experience."

Lissa tilted her head. "'Optimal'? Are you some sort of tactician or something?"

Robin laughed. "Something like that. Anyway, let's go see how Chrom and Frederick are holding up."

"Ok! Hey, does my bro become as strong as you?"

"Oh yeah. He was probably even stronger. He killed Walhart the Conqueror, after all."

"Who?"

"Eh, give it two years or three years and you'll know."

Robin folded his hands behind his head as he walked. Now that he thought on the matter, he realized that he had a long road ahead of him, even before he got to the very serious issue of Walhart, let alone Grima after that. Saving Emmeryn would have to be his first priority, and afterward he would need to figure out a way to deal with Gangrel. If Robin did manage to prevent Emmeryn from falling to her death this time around, then he would have to deal with a less galvanized Ylissean-Feroxian alliance, and a more unified Plegian army. The clash at the border wastes would probably become much more bloody, assuming it even happened at all. And who knew what state the continent would be in when the Conqueror's forerunners came knocking?

Robin sighed. He was beginning to understand the problems "Marth" must have been grappling with. He abruptly stopped in place, realizing that Lucina might not even be in this timeline; he had no reason to believe that this was an era where she and her comrades had traveled into the past. He would have to operate under the assumption that he was alone in his foreknowledge, and for some reason that he couldn't quite pin down, this distressed him.

"Robin?" Lissa called.

"Hmm? Ah, sorry. Coming!"

* * *

Chrom ducked a broad swipe from the bandit leader's axe, swinging upwards with Falchion. The man, Garrick, jumped back, wincing as Falchion nicked his side and drew blood. Chrom lunged forward, intend on finishing the duel in one blow. Garrick was quicker than anticipated, though, and countered the attack before punching Chrom in the gut. Chrom gagged, staggering backwards. Garrick raised his axe overhead, about to strike, when a bolt of lightning flew down and struck the ground between the combatants. Both leapt away, skidding to a halt.

"No good, Chrom, no good," Robin said in exasperation, shaking his head. "The old you would've just headbutted the bastard and gutted him like a fish afterward."

"It's not exactly that easy!" Chrom snapped. "I could die at any moment if I'm not careful!"

Robin rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but I don't think you're supposed to be struggling with this jackass."

"Who said I'm struggling?! And why are you acting as if you're in charge?!"

Robin blinked. He hadn't anticipated resistance from Chrom of this sort. The tactician supposed that he was going about things a little bit differently in this scenario; the previous time, he had fought at Chrom's side, but here Robin was having Frederick fill that role instead, as the tactician wanted the two men to hone their combat abilities as quickly as possible. Robin frowned, realizing that he had been taking his previous close friendship with Chrom as a given. This was a mistake he couldn't afford to make, not when everything might hinge on his ability to convince the prince to go along with his every decision.

"You're right, I'm overstepping some bounds here," Robin conceded. "I'm sorry, but I promise you that my intentions and reasons are both good. Let me show you that I'm here to help. I'll off Gaptooth over there myself if you'll let me."

Garrick growled. "Oy, you git! I've got me a name, and it's-"

Robin raised his hand, cutting the bandit off. The tactician smirked. "Sorry, but don't waste your breath. I didn't remember your name the first time, and I'm sure as hell not going to bother now." The bandit howled in anger, but Robin ignored him and turned back to Chrom. "May I? I understand if you want to settle this yourself."

Lissa nudged Chrom. "He's really strong, bro!"

Chrom sighed. "Alright, go ahead. Show me what you've got."

Robin grinned. "As you command, milord." He strolled up to Garrick, no weapons on hand. The bandit raised an eyebrow, then swung with his axe. Robin stepped away nimbly, dodging by a hair's breadth. Garrick growled and swung again, and once more Robin avoided the attack by less than inch. The bandit, starting to become frustrated, began swinging erratically, and still Robin continued to be just ever-so-slightly out of reach in the one-sided dance. Chrom and Lissa's mouths dropped, and even Frederick seemed begrudgingly impressed.

"You. Stupid. Asshole!" Garrick seethed, each word punctuated with an axe stroke. "Just. Stay. Still. And. _Die already!_ "

Robin ran his fingers over the edges of the pages of the tome in his pocket, uttering a few short words. His hand became shrouded in lightning, and after ducking under Garrick's last swing, he jammed his fist into the bandit leader's heart before releasing the pent up electrical energy. A large bolt of lighting burst out of the man's back, shooting off into the sky before dissipating. Garrick gagged, eyes bulging as blood spurted from his mouth. He took a few tremulous steps backwards, then collapsed, dead.

Robin turned back to his comrades, each of whom were shocked by what they had just seen. "I'm strong, Chrom," Robin said quietly as he flicked blood off of his hand. "It's quite possible that I'm currently one of the strongest people in the world. But I can't do this alone. Dark days are coming, Chrom, and I need your help if we're all going to get through them."

Chrom frowned, searching Robin's eyes. The sincerity he found in them was profound. After a few moments the prince sighed. "You might be a prophet, or you might just be a lunatic." He suddenly smiled. "But either way, you fought with us to protect innocent people, and as far as I'm concerned that makes you a friend."

"Milord, if I might interject," Frederick objected tersely. "The bandits spoke with _Plegian_ accents, and our mysterious friend here wears a _Plegian_ coat. That is too great a coincidence for me to ignore."

"I trust him, Frederick. And judging by the display he put on just now, if he was our enemy, I don't think we would be able to stop him from killing us anyway."

Frederick's jaw tightened. His pride demanded that he contest this statement, but realistically he did not like his chances were he to challenge this enigmatic threat.

"However, the bandit being Plegian does concern me," Chrom note. He turned to address the tactician. "I don't suppose your foresight tells you what that's about, does it Robin?"

"It's not foresight. I've just experienced this all before. And the bandit's Plegian because Gangrel's trying to stir up unrest on the Ylissean-Plegian border. He wants a war, and he's going to stop at nothing to get it."

Chrom frowned. "I don't like the sound of that. Our peace with Plegia isn't an easy one, but it's something worth protecting. I don't want to believe that even the Mad King would be willing to throw it away."

"More than willing, Chrom. He would relish in it. He wants to bury every last man, woman, and child in this country. I've heard him say as much."

Frederick raised an eyebrow. "You claim to have held audience with the king of Plegia?"

"No, we only met on battlefields."

Chrom raised an eyebrow as well. "That's a tad hard to believe, but if Plegia really is readying for war then we need to tell Emmeryn immediately. I would appreciate it if you would accompany us back to Ylisstol, Robin."

"Frankly, I was worried that I was going to have to convince you to _let_ me come with you," Robin admitted.

"Milord, I cannot condone allowing this man anywhere near the Exalt," Frederick said through gritted teeth.

Robin looked at the Knight Commander with a deathly serious look. "Frederick, I might be the only thing standing between Emm and an untimely death. Believe me, you want me in Ylisstol right now more than you could possibly know."

"I have had quite enough of you!" Frederick snapped. "I will not allow you to-"

" _Frederick_ ," Chrom said sharply.

The knight instantly fell silent.

"I appreciate your concern for Emmeryn's safety," Chrom continued. "I really do. But as bizarre as Robin's claims are, he might be the only person who can prevent a sea of bloodshed. I'm going to trust in him. You don't have to do the same, but you _will_ obey my orders. And I am ordering you to leave him be."

"...Very well, milord," Frederick answered quietly. "As you command. I will make preparations for our departure." He gave Robin a quick glare, then began to walk away.

"What?!" Lissa exclaimed. "We're leaving right now?! But I want warm food to eat and a warmer bed to sleep in!"

Chrom grinned. "And you can have those things, once we get back to Ylisstol. But for now, we need to make haste."

Lissa groaned loudly. "But I wanted Southtown Soup! I haven't had it in ages!"

"Sorry Lissa," Robin chuckled. "But you're out of luck, because there is not a _chance_ that I am missing an opportunity to eat bear meat."

* * *

When the group finally made camp for the night, Robin was nervous. The moment of truth would soon be at hand. He tried to savor his dinner, but the tension prevented him from doing so, and later interfered with his sleep as well. So when Chrom and Lissa got up in the middle of the night, Robin rose with them. They wandered through the woods for some ten minutes before the earthquake struck. Chrom and Lissa were terrified, but Robin was exhilarated. He looked up to the night sky expectantly, and witnessed the first portal when it opened and dropped Risen into the world. Robin's heart was hammering in his chest as he and Chrom dispatched the undead, and it nearly stopped when the second portal appeared. A feminine form could be seen as if underwater, and then she had crossed the boundary, flying through the burning air.

She was here. Lucina existed in this timeline as well. And Robin was relieved, not only at seeing his friend alive once more, but because he would no longer need to shoulder his heavy burden all alone.

But Robin's elation quickly turned to dread as a sobering realization struck him.

_If Lucina is here, then so is the other me, and her world's Grima along with him._


	2. Unwelcome Change

The last twenty-four hours had by no means been pleasant for Frederick. First he had been forced to endure his lord and master ignoring all good sense and common reason when it came to that untrustworthy Robin individual, then there had been that messy business in Southtown (he had no idea how long it would take him to scrub the bloodstains out of Prince Chrom's attire), and then he had gone without supper rather than endure that _wretched_ bear meat.

And now hell-fire was erupting from the ground and the living damned were falling from the sky, no doubt intent on dragging the Knight Commander's charges with them back into the underworld.

Though it defied all earthly logic, Frederick was convinced that that scoundrel Robin was involved with this somehow. However, that issue would have to wait until these creatures had been eradicated and the royal family's safety ensured. Frederick spurred his steed harder, racing toward the sounds of battle echoing through the woods.

* * *

Chrom grunted and dislodged Falchion from a Risen's chest, then turned toward Robin incredulously. "Did... Did that person just fall out of the sky?!" the prince yelled. "And what the hell are these things?! What on earth is going on?!"

Robin whistled as he obliterated the last Risen of the group with thunder magic. "Now _that_ is a long story to explain. Sound bite: The Risen are the work of the Fell Dragon Grima, and _sh_ -... _that person_ over there is also a time traveler." Robin had nearly had a slip of the tongue, but past experience informed him it would be best to keep Lucina's identity and gender hidden for now, if nothing else as a courtesy to the swordsmaid.

" _Great, more time travelers!_ " Chrom shouted sarcastically. "What next?! Is my _son_ from the future going to show up and start calling me Pops?!"

Robin struggled to make his face as blank as possible and bit back the urge to reply that Chrom had only had daughters. However, expression forced its way through when he realized that Lucina was cornered off in the distance.

"...Chrom, I'm going to go help that person," the tactician declared. "Hole up in one of those abandoned forts; you should be safe there. ...Relatively safe, that is. Anyway, Lissa, stick close to your brother. Sully and Virion should be showing up any minute now. You two hold tight until they get here." With that Robin took off in Lucina's direction, not bothering to wait for a reply from Chrom.

"Wait, how do you know Sully?" the prince shouted. " _And who the hell is Virion?!_ "

* * *

"My dearest flower— _oof_ —If you could but slow down and allow me to— _urgh_ —properly ride..."

Sully glanced back at the blue-haired man being dragged along by her horse as she careened through the forest. They had rode for nearly a mile now, but the man had refused to release his grip on her saddle, having latched onto it when she had attempted to leave him behind so that she could go investigate whatever the hell was happening right now.

The knight whistled. "Naga, Ruffles, you're still hanging on? I'd be impressed if I wasn't so creeped out." After all, the dandy had followed her all the way from the tavern back in town, pestering her with confessions of love or some other load of pig slop.

"Virion is a man of many virtues, and tenacity is but one— _ow!_ —but one of them. Besides, a gentleman such as myself— _guh!_ —would never abandon a lady in the face of peril!"

"Yeah?! Well this _lady_ is about to- ...The ever-living hell was that?" Sully muttered as she looked over her shoulder to observe a figure they had just passed. She glanced back down at Virion. "Hey Ruffles, was it just me or was that freak purple?"

"Virion does not discriminate against others— _ouch_ —over such paltry matters. ...But yes, his skin was indeed purple. And those glowing red eyes of his— _bwuh_ —suggest to me that he is not man, but aberration. ...And I believe that said aberration— _ugh_ —is following us now."

"I'll kill it later then. I hear fighting up ahead. Ruffles, hightail it out of here. Things are about to get messy."

The eloquent refusal that Virion had been about to eschew was abruptly cut off when Sully's horse broke into a clearing, prompting the knight to bring her mount to a halt so that she could find her bearings. Unprepared for this, Virion went skidding in a rather inelegant fashion, rolling across the ground before coming to a halt. He shakily got to his feet, brushed himself off, then stood fully with a refined poise that belied the fact that he still had dirt in his teeth. He discreetly spat to clear his mouth, then turned back toward Sully.

Who was no longer there.

Virion smiled and shook his head before sweeping his hair back with a flourish. "My, my. There is no gardener in this world finer than Virion, for none go to such lengths as he to sow the seeds of love." He was about to search for the cavalier when he paused. "Ah but of course, first thing's first." He took out his bow, notched an arrow, and waited a few moments. As expected, the monster that had followed them came bounding into view, sword held high. Virion took careful aim, then released the string, his arrow whistling through the air before burying itself between glowing red eyes. The Risen fell backwards, twitching erratically before evaporating in a cloud of ash. Virion regarded the dissipating remains for a moment.

"It seems that Valm is not the only continent with more than its fair share of troubles," he murmured reflectively. Then he scanned about, found the horse tracks he was looking for, and took off after Sully.

* * *

Lucina deflected an axe-strike from a hulking Risen, then nimbly sidestepped the sword thrust of another. In two quick strokes she dispatched the pair, then turned and charged another undead. Robin couldn't help but smile as he watched the woman practically dance around her opponent; it was a relief to see his comrade alive and well again.

The princess had just beheaded her enemy when Robin noticed another Risen sneaking up on her. The archer drew its bowstring, in plain view, but Lucina couldn't see it on account of the darkness and her mask inhibiting her peripheral vision. Robin immediately flipped open his tome and fired a bolt of _Thoron_ at the Risen. It was promptly evaporated before it had a chance to let its arrow fly. Robin noted that _Thoron_ might have been a tad overkill; even an _Elthunder_ probably would've gotten the job done, but he wasn't keen on the idea of having his reunion cut short before it even occurred because he had decided to be conservative with his spell usage.

He walked up to a visibly surprised Lucina, who immediately turned on him with Falchion held defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," Robin said, raising his hands. "I'm not your enemy."

Lucina frowned, clearly skeptical. Robin was about to say more, but, to his frustration, was cut off by another gate opening above the two. Risen plummeted down to the ground and surrounded the time travelers. Robin and Lucina immediately went back to back, Robin out of habit and Lucina out of instinct.

"Just like old times," Robin laughed, but Lucina ignored him and immediately threw herself at a nearby Risen. Robin sighed, then drew an Arcfire tome. Overkill be damned, he didn't have the patience to deal with fodder like this the economic way right now.

* * *

"Gods, is there no end to these things?" Chrom grunted as he fended off yet another Risen that had attempted to clamber over the fort's walls. He sliced off the creature's arm, causing it to wail loudly before it fell back to the ground. The Risen staggered to its feet, about to attempt the climb again when a lance tip burst through its temple, killing it instantly. A red-armored cavalier pulled her weapon back, then twirled the lance before holding it to her forehead in a crisp salute.

"Captain Chrom!" Sully shouted as she trotted her horse into clearer view. "Gods, am I glad to see you! What the hell is going on around here?!"

Chrom sighed with relief. "Good to see you too, Sully!" he called as he began to climb down a ladder, Lissa following close behind. "You're right on schedule, apparently. ...And honestly, your guess is as good as mine."

Sully frowned. "Say, where the hell is Commander Frederick? You'd think that at a time like this that tight-ass would be sticking so close to you that he'd-"

"I'm _quite_ curious as to how you intend to finish that sentence, Miss Sully," a deep voice commented as another horse came into view, its rider resting an ichor-covered silver lance on his shoulder. A second, smaller man was sitting behind him, obfuscated by Frederick's bulky armor.

Sully began to break out in a cold sweat. "Sentence? Hahaha, what sentence? Nobody's saying sentences 'round here, Knight Commander Sir. Ain't that right, Chrom?"

The prince smiled. "I'm glad to see you're well, Frederick. I was concerned that you might have gotten into trouble when these _things_ appeared."

"With how tough these bastards are, I'm real glad to have you backin' us up, Commander," Sully added in unconvincing fashion.

 _"Dearest Sully!_ " a loud, familiar voice exclaimed.

" ...Aaaaand you brought Ruffles with you. Fan-friggin-tastic."

Frederick's jaw twitched. "I stumbled upon him by chance. He was rather... _insistent_ about accompanying me."

Sully grimaced. "Tell me about it."

Virion hastily dismounted, running up to Sully and dropping to one knee. "Oh my, glorious light, do not stray from my side again, for I would be lost in this cold, cruel, dark world without your radiance!

Chrom sized the newcomer up and sighed, this time without the relief. "Let me guess... You must be Virion."

Sully blinked. "You know this fool?" she asked.

The archer turned toward Chrom with a broad smile. "Ah, but to think that the fair name of Virion had spread into lands even as distant as these!" he exclaimed. "It is not surprising, of course, but I-"

"Stow it, Ruffles," Sully interrupted. "We've got company." Another swarm of Risen was rapidly approaching the group.

"Chrom! Look over there!" Lissa shouted.

Her brother squinted, then widened his eyes as he caught sight of what Lissa had been referring to. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but a young woman was at the front of the pack, clearly running for her life.

"Shepherds, we have a sheep that needs tending to," Chrom declared. "Let's move!"

* * *

The last Risen that Robin and Lucina had been fighting gave a guttural groan, then began to disintegrate. Robin put his tome away and brushed off his hands, then turned to find an empty clearing, just as he had expected. Naturally, Lucina was not fond of lingering around people presumably from this era. The tactician glanced around quickly, eyes soon settling on a retreating blue figure.

"Oh no you don't," Robin muttered under his breath. He immediately took off in pursuit.

Lucina was quick, but Robin was much more familiar with the area thanks to his prior experiences in it. Though the princess had a head start, the labyrinth of fire, trees, and shadows slowed her progress, and the tactician soon caught up to her.

Realizing she had been tailed, Lucina skidded to a halt, quickly turning and drawing Falchion. Robin stopped a short distance away from her, close enough that he could chase after her if she ran again, but far enough away that he wouldn't be caught off guard if Lucina felt pressured into attacking.

"What business do you have with me?" the princess asked guardedly. Robin had to stymie a chuckle at the forced deepness of her voice; it was almost cute that she didn't realize how pointless trying to hide her identity from him was.

"More than you could possibly know," Robin answered with a sly grin. "... _Lucina."_

The princess went rigid. "You... How can you know my name? _Just who are you?!_ "

Robin blinked. "Huh? You don't recognize me? Come on, I can't have looked _that_ different in your time. It's me, Robin! You know, future Grandmaster Tactician of Ylisse? Your father's best friend? ...Lucina, you're giving me a weird look. Why are you giving me a weird look? You're wearing the mask but I can tell you're giving me a weird look. Why are you giving me a weird look, Lucina?"

* * *

Chrom sighed with relief as he dislodged Falchion from the last Risen's chest. The young woman who had just been rescued collapsed to her knees, panting heavily as she struggled to catch her breath. She wore a Plegian coat, and her right hand, emblazoned by a bizarre purple crest, rested on top of a book as snow-white as her hair.

The prince flicked Falchion clean of ichor and ash, then re-sheathed his sword. He extended a hand to the girl. "It's alright now," he smiled reassuringly. "You're safe."

The girl looked toward him, eyes searching. Tentatively, she took the proffered hand, and Chrom helped her to her feet. "Th-Thank you," she said quietly, her gaze still fixated on the prince.

Lissa leaned in curiously, squinting in the darkness. "Hey, Chrom? Doesn't something feel... _familiar_ about her?"

Frederick narrowed his eyes. "Indeed, something seems amiss. But what?"

"The only thing amiss has been this seraph from noble Virion's wor- _GAUGH!_ " Virion spluttered, abruptly silenced by Sully's choke-hold.

Chrom glanced toward Frederick. "This has been a stressful night for us all. We can muddle through our questions later." He looked back towards the girl. "Still, I feel I would be remiss in not asking at least one. My name is Chrom. What's yours?"

The girl blinked, umber eyes wide and bright. "Oh! Forgive me, my name is..." She paused, puzzled. "...Huh? My name is... My name..." She stared blankly, jaw dropping. "...I can't remember!" She looked around in a panic. "I'm not even sure how I got here!"

Chrom gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Whoa there, easy, easy. You can't remember anything? Are you sure?"

Lissa gasped. "Amnesia?!"

Frederick's neck muscles tightened. " _Subterfuge_ ," he corrected.

The girl scrunched up her face, straining to recall anything she could. "...Nothing! I mean, I know basic things, like that you're a man, your hair is blue, we're in a forest, and so on." She glanced down at her tome. "I know that this is meant for magic, and I'm pretty sure I can use it. But nothing beyond that... No specifics. Not who I am, why I'm here, or where I was headed."

Chrom frowned. "That's quite troublesome." He smiled kindly. "Well, I would never be so negligent as to leave someone in your state all alone. You can travel with us until you reclaim your memories."

The girl tilted her head, scrutinizing him. "...That's very generous of you." She looked around the forest a tad nervously. "I don't suppose I really have alternatives. I mean, you're probably better company than whatever the hell those _things_ were."

Frederick cleared his throat.

Chrom raised his hand, cutting his attendant off before the knight could even begin to speak. "Yeah, yeah, _I know_ , Frederick. Let's not get into this right now. She's coming with us, end of discussion. We can go over your no-doubt-reasonable objections at a later time, but I am _not_ in the mood for this right now."

Frederick was silent a moment, then sighed. "As you wish. But do not think this matter settled."

"Please forgive Frederick," Chrom requested of the girl. "He's a good person, but being suspicious is part of his station. At any rate, I think further introductions are in order. This is my sister, Lissa, and that's Sully over there."

"Hi!" Lissa waved.

"And this pastry of a man is Virion," Sully added, as Virion's blocked windpipe prevented his harangue of a self-introduction.

The girl nodded, and was about to say something when she became suddenly still. "...Ah! I-I think I just remembered something! Yes, that's right! My name is-!"

A sudden gale of wind cut through the forest, but its noise wasn't enough to prevent those surrounded from hearing the name. A bead of sweat formed on Chrom's brow. Lissa stared, flabbergasted. Frederick looked as if he wished to strangle something. Sully tilted her head in confusion at the group's reactions, while Virion began to desperately tap on her arm.

Chrom blinked as his eyes focused on the coat he could now distinctly recognize through the gloom. His gaze traveled back to the girl's face. "Uh... I'm sorry, but would you mind repeating that? I think I misheard the first time. What did you just say your name is?"

The woman grinned.

"Robin!" she exclaimed cheerfully.


	3. Unwelcome Change II

Robin was sitting on a log, his head clutched between his hands.

"So, let me be sure I'm understanding this... In your time, Robin of Ylisse, Grandmaster Tactician... was a _woman_."

Lucina nodded. "That is correct."

Robin was quiet for a moment, then abruptly stood up and clapped his hands together. "Well, I'm going to go bash my head against a tree for a while. You stay right here, ok?"

Lucina was somewhat alarmed that the man seemed to mean his words. "Why does this information cause you so much distress?" the princess questioned.

"Because _I'm_ Robin! And I'm very comfortable with being Robin, _exactly as I am_! I don't need an existential crisis right now, not with everything else I've already got on my plate!"

"...Forgive me if I am a bit mistrusting, but how can you claim to be the tactician Robin? And more pressingly, how do you know who I am?"

Robin sighed and scratched his head. "...Well, like you, I come from the future. But not the future of this world; the future of a world parallel to it, similar in nearly every way, save my _gender_ , apparently." Robin laughed sarcastically. His eyes immediately sombered. "There was Chrom. There was Grima. And there was you."

Lucina stared at him in confusion. " _Me?_ "

Robin nodded. "Yes. I left my world three years or so hence, from this exact night. The night _you_ arrived, Lucina. In that time, I came to know you and your friends. ... _My_ friends."

The former exalt was taken aback. "You claim to have met me before? And my comrades as well?"

"That's right. You, your sister, your- ...Wait, Cynthia is still your sister, right?" The tactician's face went blank. "... _OH GODS, DID I MARRY CHROM?!_ " Robin's yell was frantic, and his fingers clawed at his scalp.

Lucina stared at the man wide-eyed. "...No, the Robin of my time remained more or less single her entire life."

If the entire conversation hadn't been so bizarre, Lucina might have laughed at Robin's visible relief. She went to say more, but hesitated, unsure of just how much she should be telling this stranger. "...My mother was Queen Sumia. And yes, my sister is named Cynthia."

Robin nodded, hand on his chin. "I see. That's... That's good."

Lucina regarded him curiously as she tried to right the conversation's course. "If... If you truly did come from another time, one where I had already come to the past... Then you must know my purpose, yes?"

"Yeah. Prevent Chrom's murder, stop the revival of the Fell Dragon Grima, and save the future."

"...Did... Did we succeed?"

Robin became somber, and looked away from her. "On one of those counts, at least."

"What?"

He glanced back to her. "...Grima was revived. We managed to defeat him, but... You died. Chrom died." Robin swallowed dryly. "Everybody but me died. I struck the finishing blow on Grima, and then I faded away. When next I woke, I was here."

Lucina stared at the man as she digested this information, but one particular piece was lodged in her mind. "...I was told that there was no slaying Grima. That sleep could be our only victory, and that it was imperative we prevent him from rousing from his slumber because of this."

Robin tightened a fist. "We _did_ prevent Grima from being raised. But that only worked on _one_ Grima."

Lucina's breath caught in her throat. "What on earth do you mean by _that_?!"

Robin looked at her directly, his gaze deathly serious. "The Grima of your time followed you."

The princess staggered backward, shocked. "Th-That's...! That's impossible...! How could he...?!"

"His power was weakened, but he managed to catch us off guard at the moment we thought our victory secured. He stole the true body of his sleeping counterpart, and we were forced to challenge him head-on." The tactician looked back down at the ground. "And thus ended the Shepherds. The only solace is that they helped take Grima down with them."

Lucina was staring numbly into the distance. Robin's words were ringing in her head. "Grima... followed me?" she whispered in dread. "Have I brought ruin to the world I was meant to save...?"

"Relax. Grima's basically a shell of himself right now. He had to leave his dragon form behind in order to travel through time, and the journey has probably damaged his avatar."

Lucina suddenly wheeled towards him. "... _Avatar_?"

Robin became tense, realizing that he was about to step into perilous territory. "Yes. He's confined to a human vessel right now, and because of that only has something akin to a human's strength. He needed the Fire Emblem and a sacrifice of thousands of lives to take control of the other Grima's body and regain his full power."

The mask hid the woman's face, but Robin could tell that Lucina was eyeing him dangerously now. "...Do you speak of the Heart of Grima?" the princess asked tersely.

"...Yes," Robin replied cautiously. He couldn't help but notice that Lucina's sword-hand was beginning to drift towards Falchion's hilt.

Lucina's voice came low and pointed. "You know much of Grima and his nature. You wear a Grimleal coat. And you claim to have slain Grima himself with your own hand, a thing no one can do. Forgive my suspicions, 'Robin', but I require explanation."

Robin backed away slowly, gauging the distance between himself and Lucina carefully. "Ok, you see, I used to—and I need you to understand how much I'm stressing this, _used to_ —I used to be the Heart of Grima."

Lucina stared at him a moment, then unsheathed Falchion in a slow and deliberate motion.

"Godsdammit!" Robin yelled. "I said _used to_! What part of 'used to' do you not understand?!" He shot out his right arm, holding up the back of his hand for her to see. "Look! No Mark of Grima! I'm not linked to him anymore because I'm the one who _killed_ the bastard!"

"Ridiculous! No human can slay Grima!" Lucina shouted. "And even if you could, why would his Heart betray him?!"

" _Because he took everything from me!_ " Robin snarled.

Lucina involuntarily stiffened at the ferocity of the man's anger.

"That monster..." Robin continued, seething. "That monster took my childhood, my family, my country, my memories, my identity, and even my friends! I _hate him_! I hate him with every fiber of my being! You think I _wanted_ to be the Heart of Grima, Lucina? I was never given a choice! I was _created_ to be it, like a puppet, _a doll_!"

Lucina stared into Robin's eyes. In them was something that she had seen many times in the eyes of her companions, and even in her own reflection; the genuine pain of one who had experienced loss beyond measure.

She was silent for a moment, and then slowly lowered Falchion and re-sheathed it. "...I believe that you bear no love for Grima," she said quietly.

Robin was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but Lucina was not finished speaking.

" _However_... It would be irresponsible of me to take your tale as truth at face value. You could be but a skilled actor, an agent of some nefarious plot. In order to be able to trust you, I must be as confident as I can of the veracity of your account. Although I cannot verify the entirety of your story, I can at least determine whether or not you are currently the Heart of Grima. Unfortunately, though, I can hardly be expected to accept one unmarked hand as sufficient proof. ...Disrobe."

Robin blinked, surprised, then after a moment began to laugh. "Hey, that was actually pretty good! The Lucina of my time couldn't tell jokes at all!"

She simply looked at him.

Robin blanched. "...Oh gods, you're serious. Come on, we don't have to go to such lengths..." He fell silent a moment as Lucina's expression remained unchanged. The tactician realized that the woman's hand was still resting on Falchion's hilt. Robin scowled indignantly. "...Alright, _FINE_! You think I won't call your bluff?!" He began to strip off articles of clothing. "You want your proof?! Take a gooooood look, Princess!" Now he was completely nude. "You like what you see? Hmm?!" He turned, displaying his entire body.

Lucina stood in silence, face burning crimson red beneath her mask. She was about to admit that she required no further convincing when Chrom stepped through the brush.

The prince squinted through the gloom. "Robin? Ah, there you are! Come with me, I-..."

Robin looked at Chrom.

Chrom looked at Robin.

Robin looked to a mortified Lucina. Whom Chrom probably thought was a man.

He looked down at himself.

"Uh... There was this thing about a birthmark and..." Robin sighed. "You know what, forget it. I'm not even going to bother trying to explain this." He waved dismissively to Chrom. "Just go wait over there while I put my clothes back on."

"Umm... Yeah, sure..." Chrom said in shock. "Just uh, just come find us at that fort when you're um... When you're ready..." He trailed off, then ambled back in the direction he had come from. Robin sighed heavily and began to get dressed.

Lucina stood fidgeting for a few moments, eyes pointedly adverted from Robin save for the occasional hasty peek to check on his progress. She only dared to approach when he had put his signature coat back on. "Robin, I apologize for..."

"Yeah yeah yeah, it's fine," Robin interrupted abruptly with a wave of his hand. "Honestly, I should probably be apologizing to _you_. I'm sure that's not how you pictured your reunion with Chrom taking place."

Lucina grimaced. She had expected a furtive meeting, the strain of preventing herself from slipping and giving away a tell towards her identity, and the effort it would take not to break down and throw herself into her father's arms. Not... Not whatever _that_ had been.

Robin sighed loudly, jolting her attention back to him. The tactician gave the princess an aside glance. "And trust me, just the fact that you didn't actually try to stab me when I told you who I was has earned you a few points in my book. The other you attempted to kill me for arguably less."

"...I what?"

Robin blinked, then winced. "Er, sorry, shouldn't have laid that on you out of the blue. She had her reasons, she really did. Greater good and all that. I don't resent her for it." He paused a moment, then sighed again and shook his head. "...Well, no. It hurt me. It really did. I'd never felt betrayed like that before."

"...You seem to still speak of this past me as if I were a friend, though," Lucina noted cautiously.

"I thought that she trusted me. We talked about so many things that I had started to think she had really opened up to me. And then..."

The dejection in Robin's eyes was plain to see, even though he tried to hide it. Somehow, Lucina couldn't stifle a burgeoning feeling of guilt. Had she really just now been about to strike this man down?

"Did... Did I ever apologize?" she asked.

Robin looked at her curiously. "We didn't really talk after the incident. I get the feeling that she wanted to from the way she acted afterward, but..."

"...But I died before I could," Lucina concluded for him.

He looked to the sky. The smoke high up in the air was beginning to dissipate, and a few bright stars could be made out. "...Yeah."

"...Why did I try to kill you?"

Robin frowned. Would telling her the reason, that the future-past version of him had killed her father, accomplish anything?

 _No,_ he decided. Risking Lucina's nascent trust over something that technically couldn't even have happened in this world was pointless.

"More or less similar reasons for why you pointed your blade at me."

"...I see," Lucina said quietly, the bud of guilt flaring up once more.

Robin crossed his arms, thinking. Then he turned toward the princess. "Lucina, will you join me?"

She hesitated, surprised.

"If you don't think that you should, then I can't force you." Robin said. "It's obviously difficult to trust someone like me, but if-"

"I will."

"-...Huh?"

She smiled. "I will join you. I will be your comrade."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that. If you mean to save the world, then our causes are bound. To challenge fate by myself when I could have help would be unthinkable."

Robin blinked. "Huh. Sorry, I just expected a bit more resistance-"

" _That said..._ "

" _There_ we go."

"If your mission is instead to end the world, then I shall be the one to end _you_."

"Yep, that's much more in line with what I was expecting." Robin was silent a moment, then suddenly laughed loud and hard. He grinned and extended his right hand. "It's good to see you again, Lucina."

Her smile was more subdued, but she reached out and shook his hand. "It's good to meet you, Robin."

* * *

It was some hours past midnight when Robin and Lucina reached the fort. Chrom and Frederick were standing outside, engaged in quiet discussion. Noticing the pair's approach, Chrom waved to them. "Robin! We've got a bit of a situation on our hands. Oh! And you brought your um..." He swallowed dryly. "... _Friend_."

Robin and Lucina both narrowed their eyes at the implication of Chrom's tone.

"My name is Chrom," the prince said, extending his hand amicably in introduction.

Robin raised an eyebrow at Lucina. He wasn't sure how she would choose to identify herself, but the fact that she had yet to remove her mask gave him a good guess.

"...You may call me Marth," Lucina said quietly before shaking Chrom's hand.

"'Marth'?" Chrom's eyes widened, and he took Robin aside for a brief moment. "Robin, you said that guy's a time traveler, right? Is that the _actual_ Hero-King? Did he come from the past?!"

Robin stared at him a moment, then laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. Just a shared name."

"Hmm..." Chrom shrugged. He turned back toward Lucina. "Sorry about that. It's nice to meet you, Marth." He looked to Robin. "Anyway, about that situation I mentioned... You should probably come have a look at this."

Robin and Lucina wordlessly followed after him into the fort and to the interior grounds, with Frederick trailing behind them. There, Lissa, Sully, and Virion were sitting around a campfire. And with them was a stranger, who turned to assess the new arrivals. Robin and Lucina both froze in place when they met her gaze.

Lucina's eyes honed in on the brand embedded on the back of the girl's right hand, illuminated by firelight. " _That's...!_ "

Robin was pale. "Oh gods, it's _her_."

"Ah! So you know her?" Chrom asked.

"Erm... In a manner of speaking..." The tactician nudged Lucina, who was fixated on the Mark of Grima. When she glanced up and caught his gaze, Robin shook his head subtly.

 _Don't do anything rash_ , he tried to convey.

Robin cleared his throat and approached the fire. "Virion, Sully, it's good to see you again."

They both raised their eyebrows at him. "Who the hell are you?" Sully asked gruffly.

Robin smiled. "I missed that bluntness of yours. You don't remember me, but you can consider me an old friend."

"Old friend my ass," Sully spat. "I don't know you from Anri."

Virion eyed Robin curiously. "It is no surprise that Virion had such an impact upon you, but I regret to admit that the archest of archers cannot recall making your acquaintance."

Sully shook her head. "Ruffles, the only impact you make on people is the desire to make an impact of their _own_. ...On you... with their fist... Dammit! People want to hit you, is what I'm trying to say!"

Robin chuckled. "Now now, don't be so hard on Virion. He's a lot more reliable than he looks. ...And acts. ...And speaks..."

The mysterious girl giggled at this, reminding Robin of her existence. He turned to address the wyvern in the room.

"And whom might you be?" he asked the girl in the Plegian coat, as if he couldn't guess.

"I'm Robin, apparently!" she said in a chipper tone.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose. " _Yep_. That's what I was afraid of..."

The other Robin titled her head. "What do you mean?"

He sighed in exasperation. "My name is Robin as well."

The other Robin's eyes widened. "Seriously? That's such a strange coincidence! And we even kind of look alike too!"

"Yeah, what are the odds?" Robin muttered. "Alright, next question: Are you currently afflicted with amnesia?"

She frowned and furrowed her brow. "Yeah... But how did you know about that? I don't recall meeting you before. I woke up in this forest, wandered around for a while, then got attacked by those things before Chrom and these guys saved me." She rapped her forehead with her knuckles. "Everything before that is a big blank."

"How _did_ you know she has amnesia, Robin?" Chrom pondered. "I hadn't told you about that yet..."

"I'll explain that later. I have some questions of my own right now. ... _Robin..._ " He shuddered at the use of the name. "Were you able to fight against the Risen? Did you have any swords or tomes?"

"Um, just these," the girl said as she drew a bronze sword and a white tome.

Robin narrowed his eyes. "What...? That isn't a _Thunder_ tome..." He held out his hand. "May I?" he asked.

The girl hesitated a moment, then nodded and handed him the book. Robin quietly leafed through its pages for nearly a minute, shaking his head more and more in disbelief as the seconds passed. He looked at the girl and handed her tome back to her. "What the hell is this? I've never seen anything like it."

"I don't really know how to describe it, so I'll just give you a demonstration," the girl said, standing up. She opened her tome, pointed her free hand, then shouted, " _Reflet_!"

A large bubble of prismatic light appeared, hovering in the air. "It seems to be a defensive spell," she explained. "The magic is quite sturdy." She elucidated this point by rapping the sphere with her sword. Small beads of light appeared around the area she had tapped. "And it also does this...!" She quickly hopped away from the magic. Bursts of light quickly erupted from the small beads, a clear counterattack function.

Robin stared in awe until the magic dissipated and evaporated into thin air. "Could... Could it be...?" he asked in a near-daze. "But light magic was supposed to have been lost centuries ago..." He turned toward the young woman. "How do you have this?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, big blank. I don't know where I got that tome or how I know how to use it."

The male Robin frowned. Something was troubling him here. The handwriting in the tome was most certainly not his, but something about it was familiar to the point of distraction. He didn't think that it belonged to his counterpart either, yet an unpleasant sensation was clawing at his brain all the same. He was certain he had seen it before, some time in the haze of his lost memories. Not from Validar, not from Aversa. Then who?

Robin's eyes widened as a possibility occurred to him. "... _Mother?_ " he whispered in shock.

"Huh?" the other Robin asked, confused.

Male Robin shook his head. "Sorry, it's nothing. Don't worry about it." Best not to raise questions even he didn't have the answers for.

Chrom coughed politely. "So, Robin..."

" _Yes?_ " the two asked simultaneously.

"Ugh!" the male groaned. "Ok, _that_ is getting nipped in the bud right now. We _cannot_ share a name."He pointed to the female Robin. "One of us has to go by something else, and it sure as hell isn't going to be me!"

"What?! That's no fair! How come _you_ get to be Robin?"

"Because I _am_ Robin! I've been Robin for as long as I can remember!"

"So have I!"

"Yeah, _for one whole day!_ "

Chrom sighed heavily before moving to break apart the pair's bickering. "Ok, ok, settle down you two," he said, holding each of them apart by the lapels of their coats.

Male Robin sighed and folded his arms. "Chrom, trust me when I say that we're all going to be interacting with each other for a very long time. The two of us being called the same thing will just bring one headache after another. And _I_ have no intention of changing my name. It's all I have to remember my old life by, and I refuse to give it away."

" _My_ name is the only thing I know about myself!" Female Robin snapped. "Why should I give it up for some asshole I met a minute ago?!"

"Hmm... The only thing, you say?" Robin murmured quietly to himself. It had been so long since the first time that he had woken up in the field that he had forgotten the aching pain of not knowing who he was. A pang of sympathy struck him.

"...Look, I know not knowing who you are is scary. Trust me, I've been through it myself."

The other Robin tilted her head. "What?"

"Three years ago, I woke up in a field, memory-free. Just like you. I know what you're going through right now. And I also know that you think that getting back your memories is all you can think about right now, because you feel like there's this big gaping hole inside of you."

"...How did you...?" the woman murmured, hands going to her head.

Male Robin looked Female Robin in the eyes intensely. "Believe me when I say that some things are better left forgotten. If your previous life was anything like I think it was, then you'd be much happier starting anew. Not many people get the chance you've been given. You can become a whole new you, one completely of your own choosing." He grimaced. "I wish I had known that a lot sooner myself."

"A new me...?" the girl said quietly. "...But why do I have to change? What was wrong with the old me?"

"Nothing that you could be blamed for."

The girl looked uncertain, and winced as her hands went to her head again. "...Chrom, what should I do?" she asked, eyes pleading for an answer.

Chrom shook his head. "I can't tell you that. Nobody but you can. What does your heart say?"

"I... I don't know..." She lifted her chin. "...But... It's _my_ heart, right? Regardless of memories, this heart belongs to me, and no one else."

Lucina shifted uncomfortably, but to Robin's relief managed to maintain her silence.

Female Robin arched an eyebrow at Male Robin. "Tell me. Why do you want to keep your name so badly?"

"...I'll let you in on a secret. Those memories I had? The ones I lost? I never got them back. And I don't think I ever will."

The girl's eyes widened.

Robin pressed on, undeterred. "But that's ok, because I made new memories, with all of the people who became precious to me. And now, those memories are all I have left of my friends. I am not Robin just because that was the name I had when I woke up. I am Robin because that was the name I had when I lived my life alongside those people."

The girl stared at him for a few moments. Then she sighed, and smiled. "That's quite a lot of weight for one name to carry."

The male Robin smiled as well. "My name is my most important possession."

The female Robin considered for some silent moments. Eventually, she reached a decision. "...Ok. This doesn't feel quite right, but... I'll take a new name. I'll write my own memories, my own life!" Her proclamation gave her an aura of triumph. This disappeared a moment later when her face went slack. "...I have no idea what I want to be called."

"Hmm... How about..." Robin pointed to his counterpart's personalized tome. "...'Reflet'?"

"Huh?"

"I can tell you right now, that tome is utterly unique." Robin smiled. "Just like you."

"It's a very pretty name," Chrom noted.

The woman looked at Chrom curiously for a moment, then grinned and turned towards Robin. "Alright, then. I'm Reflet! Nice to meet you!"

Robin shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you as well, Reflet."

Reflet turned towards Lucina. "Hello. I'm sorry, I got so caught up in all that that I forgot to greet you. I'm Reflet."

"...I go by Marth," Lucina said quietly, accepting Reflet's offered handshake. Lucina's eyes lingered on the Mark of Grima when they separated.

Robin took Chrom off to the side. "Will Reflet be coming with you to Ylisstol?"

"Yes. From what little we've managed to gleam from talking with her, apparently she knows a thing or two about tactics. I haven't broached the subject with her yet, but the Shepherds-"

Robin looked dumbstruck, as if he had been struck by lightning. "Of course! _Of course_ she knows tactics! This is _great!_ "

"...Robin?"

The white-haired man cleared his throat. "Sorry, sorry. Just realized something important."

"...Robin, just who is Reflet?" Chrom demanded. "And how do you know about her?"

Robin frowned. "I'm not entirely sure how I can explain this without sounding like a raving loon, so we'll just simplify the story and say she's something like my twin sister."

Chrom was surprised. "She's your sister? What kind of sadistic parent would name their children the same thing?"

He grimaced. "Believe me, that probably would have been the least of my father's crimes. And boy, are _you_ going to be in for a fun time when we run into the Secret Sellers..."

"Secret what?"

"Anyway, I know this is abrupt, but Marth and I won't be coming back with you to Ylisstol after all."

Chrom raised his eyebrows. "What? Why the sudden change of mind?"

"I had thought that it would be necessary for me to stick close to the Shepherds so that I could play the roles I had in my own time. However, with Reflet here now, that's no longer necessary. Right now I can probably do more good moving about at my own discretion."

Chrom frowned. "I see... Can't say I'm happy about it, though. My world's been flipped on its head over the course of a single day, and I get the feeling that there's a lot more to come that you aren't telling me about."

Robin glanced at Lucina. "You have _no_ idea."

"Why are you hiding things from me? Do you not trust me?"

Robin shook his head hastily. "No, no, it's not like that at all. You're probably the person I trust the _most_ , Chrom. It's just that I don't have clairvoyance. I only have experience. If events are altered too much, then my foresight could become useless, and we might get blind-sided by a catastrophe that puts us even worse off than before. So for now, everything's on a need-to-know basis."

Chrom sighed and crossed his arms. "I still don't like it, but alright. So where will you and... _Marth_... By the way Robin, about earlier..."

"It's not like that. It was just a misunderstanding."

"Robin, I'm not a judgmental person. It's alright with me if you two are-"

"It's. Not. Like. That." Robin said through gritted teeth.

Chrom put his hands up defensively. "Ok, ok. Sorry. Anyway, where are you two going? Will we see you again?"

"Can't say where we're headed. But we'll meet again quite soon, I promise you."

"Very well then. Take care," Chrom said, clasping Robin's hand.

"You as well, my friend," Robin replied.

Robin was about to gesture to Lucina to follow him when he remembered something. He turned back toward Chrom. "One more thing before we take our leave. Tell Duke Themis to beef up his border security. Plegians are going to raze a village near his border, and his daughter's going to be kidnapped by Gangrel and his men. The bastard will claim that Ylisseans assaulted him and will try to ransom Maribelle for the Fire Emblem."

Chrom's eyes widened in shock. "...If I hadn't seen the undead rain from the sky a few hours ago I wouldn't have believed a word of what you just said."

Robin grinned. "But you do believe now."

Chrom sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I'll take care of it. Safe travels."

Robin nodded, then called "Marth" over. She gave Chrom a curt nod while Robin waved his farewells to the Shepherds, then the two departed from the fort. They made their way through the forest for some time before they finally found their way back onto the trail that would lead them to the nearest village.

"I'm surprised you haven't said anything about Reflet's mark," Robin noted.

"Without the knowledge that she is the Heart of Grima, she poses little threat by herself," Lucina explained. "Especially when we will be able to supervise her." The princess glanced at the tactician. "...Besides, such a nature need not necessarily be an indictment against the girl herself."

Robin smiled. "...I see."

"Still, to think that Lady Rob—...Forgive me, Lady _Reflet_ —was the Heart of Grima all along... It beggars belief."

Robin put his hands behind his head. "That means she was fighting her fate all along. Just like us."

Lucina frowned pensively. "...Perhaps so."

"...By the way, you don't have to wear that around me," Robin noted.

"Hmm?"

"The mask. You don't need it around me, you know."

"Oh. I suppose you're right." Lucina removed the disguise and slipped it into her satchel. "I think I'll keep my hair up, though. It's quite a bother to redo."

"Wait, that's not a haircut? Gods know what kind of witchcraft keeps it tucked up like that."

"It is not witchcraft. It is merely a complex-"

"That was an exaggeration for comedic effect."

"...Oh."

Lucina fell silent, and remained so for quite some time as they walked. It took Robin longer than he cared to admit to realize that she wasn't brooding over not understanding a joke.

 _Of course! She just met her dead father and couldn't say anything to him about it! Gods, I_ am _an idiot..._

"...He was proud of you, you know," Robin said off-handedly.

"Huh?"

"Chrom. Well, the Chrom I knew. But give this one some time too and I'm sure he'll think the same thing."

"...Truly?"

"Yeah. He loved you with all of his heart."

Lucina was quiet a few moments, then sniffled and rubbed at her eyes.

Robin blinked. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

She shook her head, smiling. "No, thank you. What you said has made me very happy."

Robin's face flushed and he looked away, scratching his head. "Think nothing of it."

Lucina looked around. "It just occurred to me that I hadn't asked about our destination. Where are we headed?"

Robin grinned and ground a fist into his palm. "To Regna Ferox. We have a contest to rig."


	4. Shepherds

Dawn had yet to break when Robin and Lucina entered a small town. The tactician glanced at his companion. Although she was trying to hide it, it was obvious that Lucina was battling exhaustion. Clearly, she had not hopped out of (a presumably metaphorical, all things considered) bed and straight into the time portal; she and her friends must have fought their way to it, and given Lucina's near-superhuman resiliency, it had to have been quite a grueling struggle to have drained her so.

"Alright, we'll stop here," Robin decided, stretching his arms behind his back. "Let's find an inn and get some rest."

Lucina was clearly nonplussed at this suggestion. "We can press on. Time is of the essence, and there's no need to dally here. We'll stop when we have to."

Robin frowned. "Hey, you're not fooling me. You're dead on your feet. You need some sleep. We  _both_  do, actually. Dimension-leaping seems to take a slight toll on the body."

"I am used to traveling for long periods without rest. If we-"

"Lucina. When was the last time you slept in an actual bed?"

She glanced upward. "Some years ago. ...Shortly before we used it for kindling..."

"And when was the last time you actually slept a whole night through?"

Lucina pursed her lips.

"You're not in that hell anymore," Robin continued gently. "You don't have to be on edge all the time. It's alright to get a good night's sleep every once in a while, and you're safe to do so here." He grinned cheekily. "Besides, even if something  _did_  try to attack you, I'm plenty strong enough to protect you."

Lucina sighed. She didn't wish to concede the issue, but it was difficult to fight against both Robin's persistence  _and_  the drooping of her eyelids. "...Very well," she said softly. "Unfortunately, I do not have money for a room."

"Ah, don't worry about that," Robin smiled as he drew a moderately-sized coin pouch. "Your father paid me quite well for my work. We don't have anything to worry about." He paused. "...Assuming the currency of this Ylisse is the same as in the one I came from."

* * *

Ylisstol was thrumming, a thriving city undisturbed by the nightmares that now plagued the countrysides. Reflet couldn't help but gawk as she, Chrom, Frederick, Lissa, and Virion walked through the main market street. (Sully had rode ahead of the party to deliver the news of the Risen to the Exalt.) While most experiences were now innately novel to the newly-minted tactician, the scale of the capital Reflet found staggering.

"There are so many people," she breathed in awe. "All living their own unique lives at the same time. Isn't it amazing?"

Chrom smiled. "It certainly is. Sometimes I take it all for granted, but it's a wonderful thing that all these people can live together in peace."

Frederick raised an eyebrow. "Would that  _every_  person lived in harmony."

Chrom chuckled. "Right, not everyone follows the rules. But that's where we come in."

Reflet looked up to him. "So you "Shepherds" are a peacekeeping outfit?"

"That's right," Chrom said. "We watch over the flock, as it were. Protect them from the wolves." He frowned. "And now these 'Risen', as Robin called them, I suppose."

Reflet stared at him a moment, then surveyed the crowd pensively. An image of a red-eyed monster bearing down on her flashed through her mind. She shuddered and unconsciously shifted a bit closer to Chrom as they walked. "...Will these people be safe from the Risen here?" she asked.

"The Knights of Ylisse take pride in their unwavering service," Frederick answered. "Not a one of those foul creatures will ever walk past this fair city's walls."

The white-haired woman tilted her head. "What if somebody catapulted them in? ...What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

Chrom blinked. "I uh, don't think we need to be overly concerned about that possibility. Rest assured the people inside the city are safe. It's the other people out there who most need our help."

Reflet rubbed her arm, staring downcast at the ground. "...I suppose some people won't be as lucky as I was."

Chrom placed a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps not, but I intend to protect as many of those unfortunate souls as I can."

"...I don't think I would be here now if it wasn't for you," Reflet murmured. "I don't want anyone to go through that fear I felt before you rescued me. If you want to save people, then I want to help you."

The prince was surprised a moment, then smiled broadly. "That's great! I was going to wait for an appropriate time to ask you to be the Shepherds' tactician, but now works fine too! What do you say?"

Reflet smiled. "Well, it's not like I had other plans! ...I think."

"Yay! Welcome to the Shepherds, Reflet!" Lissa cheered as she hugged the tactician.

"Excellent!" Chrom glanced to his notably silent attendant. "...Frederick? Anything you want to say about this?"

"Such as?"

"I don't know, I just kind of expected you to be against it."

"Oh I  _am_  against it, make no mistake. While so far I have seen no ill character from Miss Reflet, her convenient amnesia and connection to that dastard Robin draw no small amount of suspicion from me. I have simply resigned myself to the fact that you will ignore my concerns and do as you please."

"Who is Robin anyway?" Reflet asked. "And how did he know so much about me?"

Chrom frowned, unsure if it was his place to reveal what Robin had said about the two being related. However, if it was something that Robin didn't want Reflet to know, then the tactician probably would have told Chrom as much.

"...He said that he's your twin brother," the prince replied.

Reflet's jaw dropped. "My brother?! But why didn't he say anything about that to me?!"

Chrom scratched his head. "Robin is... an enigma. He claims to have come from the future. I don't understand half the things he says or does, but he seems to have his reasons."

Reflet's brow furrowed. "From the future? That sounds ridiculous. But hell, what do I know? If you had asked me yesterday morning I would've said zombies were ridiculous too." She put her hand to her chin. "But wait. If he really does come from the future, and we're twins, then doesn't that logically lead to me being from the future as well?"

Chrom blinked. "Umm... Maybe?"

Reflet raised an eyebrow, clearly dissatisfied with his answer.

"Er, I mean, I have no way of knowing. But I don't think it really matters too much either way. What's important is the here and now. ...And he  _did_  seem a little older than you, for what that's worth."

Reflet frowned. She appeared as if she was about to say something when she was distracted by a commotion on a side street. People were beginning to group up excitedly in the center where a blonde woman surrounded by a handful of guards was passing by.

"What's going on over there?" Reflet question.

"It is high noon," Frederick explained. "The exalt is taking her daily walk through the streets."

"The exalt?"

"The ruler of our people, Lady Emmeryn."

Virion grinned, his hand on his chin contemplatively. "My, but what a ravishing beauty your exalt is. Hmm... Were House Virion to become better acquai- Urk!" Virion grimaced in pain, then glanced to his shoulder, where Frederick's gauntlet-covered hand was holding him in a powerful vicegrip.

"Sir Virion," Frederick smiled icily. "The crest on the handle of the knife in your boot speaks volumes to the dalliances you have had with the noble houses of Ylisse, but the royal family is one that you will not forge such...  _alliances_  with.  _Am I clear_?"

Virion eyed the knight uneasily. "As crystal, my friend. But dear Sir Frederick, did no one yet tell you that you are at your most terrifying when you smile?"

Reflet furrowed her brow as she watched the procession. Something was bothering her. "Your ruler just walks the streets, lightly guarded?"

Chrom smiled. "Emmeryn represents the best in all of us. She's the living embodiment of peace, and we Ylisseans take pride in her. No one would raise a hand against her."

Reflet narrowed her eyes. "That's incredibly naive."

Chrom blinked in surprise. "'Naive'? Isn't that a bit of a strong word for someone new to the world to be throwing around?"

The tactician shrugged. "Chrom, just because I can't remember the entirety of yesterday doesn't mean I was  _born_  during it."

Lissa tugged on Reflet's sleeve. "Hey, don't worry! Even if there  _was_  someone who wanted to hurt Emm, they'd have to go through Chrom to get to her! No one's dumb enough to try that!"

Reflet raised an eyebrow at Chrom. "Are you the exalt's bodyguard?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, not quite. I'm her younger brother."

Reflet's eyes went wide, and when she looked from Emmeryn's forehead to Chrom's exposed shoulder her jaw dropped at the shared marking. "H-Her brother?! But then that would make you... Oh my gods, you're a prince! Damn,  _damn_ , should I, uh, curtsy or um, or, or,  _something_ , milord?!"

Chrom put his hands up, lips upturned with mild embarrassment. "Whoa, please don't get overexcited. I hate formalities. You don't need to treat me any differently than you have up till now."

The white-haired woman blinked. "Oh. Um... You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Uh, ok then, Chrom..." Reflet glanced at Lissa, who had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot. "Something wrong, Lissa?"

"Why aren't you saying anything about  _me_  being a  _princess_?" she asked in a huff.

"Oh! My apologies, your, uh... ladyship?"

Lissa snickered. "Ok, you don't have to call me  _that_."

Reflet grinned and poked Lissa in the side. "Alright, how about your Royal Highness? Or maybe Her August Majesty?"

Lissa laughed and swatted at Reflet's hand.

The party continued their walk in an amiable atmosphere, which remained uninterrupted until a particular vendor caught Reflet's eye. She immediately bolted to the stall, eyes wide with delight as she beheld a varied assortment of books. "Chrom, come check this out!" she called to him, already flipping through the pages of a worn bestiary.

"Do you read much?" Chrom asked.

"Possibly? I get the feeling that I do. No harm in finding out!" Reflet began digging through her pockets, but after a few moments of fruitless searching paused. "...I don't think I have any money." She wheeled around to face the prince. "Chrom, will you buy this for me?"

Chrom gave a blank expression; he hadn't been expecting this question. "Um, I'm sorry, but I don't think I should."

"What? Come on, you're a prince! You're loaded! What's one little book?"

"It's  _because_  I'm a prince. I have to treat everyone the same. I can't just go around buying things for my friends. If I display that sort of favoritism, I-"

Chrom was about to go further with his point, but the words caught in his throat when he looked into Reflet's pleading umber eyes. He tried his damnedest to resist, but the overwhelming urge to remove the cause of the disappointed expression on her face proved too strong for him to overcome.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, digging out a coin pouch. "But just  _one_  book, understand?"

"Yes! Thank you, Chrom!" Reflet shouted excitedly.

Chrom had been raised as royalty. He had been taught from a young age that he must walk among the people yet stand above them; that he must be kind yet impartial; that he must be stalwart and unyielding. And all that had gone straight out the window in the face of a pretty girl. Chrom had never thought himself immune to the guile of feminine charm, but this was the first time he had been made to feel  _powerless_. He watched Reflet haggle with the vendor over the volume that held her interest, and he could see her eyes light up as another book caught her attention. Already, he accepted that he was inevitably going to end up buying that one for her as well, try as hard as he might to restrain himself from doing so. Chrom was enslaved to a force beyond his understanding.

"...Frederick, do you remember when my life used to be comprehensible?" he asked dejectedly.

"Yes, and I vastly preferred it that way."

* * *

Lucina slowly opened her eyes. For several moments she lay still, unperturbed by thought or motion. Then she blinked in alarm and bolted upright, eyes darting about the room she had awoken in.

Robin looked up from the book he was reading. "Ah, so you've returned to the living! I know I'm the one who was pushing for you to rest up, but I wasn't expecting you to be out for quite  _that_  long."

The former exalt breathed out to steady herself as remembrance flooded back. Of course. They were in a small inn. In the past. "They" being herself and a man apparently from a  _different_  future. She could hardly believe that this wasn't a dream; that the desperate, final gambit had worked.  _Twice_ , even, according to Robin. She glanced at him. Lucina had attempted to mentally prepare herself for any number of situations that could arise in this timeline, but  _he_  was by far the least expected. Still, the fact that he hadn't slit her throat in her sleep probably boded well for his long-term trustworthiness, and, in all honesty, knowing that she had been safeguarded while she had slept did give her a small sense of security.

She looked around the room with more focused appraisal. It had been the only vacant one, and was small and lightly furnished. In spite of her protests, Robin had insisted on giving her the bed. Now he was sitting in a chair in the corner, looking surprisingly well-rested for someone who had spent the night on the floor.

Lucina groggily rubbed an eye with the palm of her hand, inspecting the wrinkled and grimy outfit she had kept on. (Robin hadn't needed to insist on that.) "H-How long did I sleep for?"

"Oh, a good sixteen or so hours."

" _S-Sixteen_?!" Lucina spluttered.

"I'm kind of impressed," Robin remarked idly as he flipped a page. "I mean, I got nearly twelve hours myself, but I didn't think it was possible to go much farther beyond that. I already finished my Hell Hour and I'm nearly halfway through this book!"

Lucina tilted her head. "...'Hell Hour'?"

Robin waved a hand. "My personal nickname for 'Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour'. I hope that bastard's happy that I'm keeping it up even without him around to nag me about it."

His eyes suddenly widened as he realized what he had said, and his expression softened.

Lucina stared at him. "...Robin?"

The tactician blinked. "Sorry, sorry. Don't mind me. Everything that happened was just so sudden. I don't think I've processed it all quite yet." He gestured around. "And being in this timeline where everyone's still alive and healthy isn't exactly doing any favors in that regard."

The princess stared out the room's lone window. "Yes... It is quite an adjustment, isn't it?"

A grimace appeared on Robin's face. He wanted this partnership to start off on a pleasant note, and here he was bringing the mood down. He was about to make an attempt at changing the topic when Lucina balled the sheets in her fists and suddenly groaned.

" _Sixteen hours!"_ she lamented. "How could I be so slothful? It's practically sinful!"

Robin raised his eyebrows in surprise, momentarily caught off guard. "Um, don't worry. It's to be expected, given the world you just came from. You've been pushing your body far beyond its limit for a while now. It's natural for it to jump at a chance for recovery. Frankly, I'd like for you to be able to rest up for even longer, perhaps a week or so, but unfortunately we don't have the luxury of quite that much time." He leaned back in his chair. "Still, I didn't know it was even  _possible_  to sleep for sixteen hours in a row. Can you do that at will, or only after times of extreme stress? I wonder if any of the other time travelers could top that..." He looked back to her. "Which, by the way, is on the to-do list. ...Finding your friends, I mean. Not some insane, Miriel-esque sleep-deprivation experiment."

Lucina suddenly sat upright, then turned toward Robin with startled eyes. "You know where they are, don't you?"

Robin scratched his head. "Um, well, vaguely. I have a general idea for most of them based on where we found them in my world, but you all popped out in varying times and places. Some of them probably haven't arrived yet, and nearly half of them aren't even on this continent. Unfortunately, I don't think there's a single one of them close enough that we can afford to make an immediate detour. And that's not even factoring in possible changes that weren't present in my world."

Lucina's shoulders slumped a bit. "I see..."

Robin regarded her a moment. "Hey, don't worry. We'll find them all. Once this business with Plegia is settled we should have nearly a year before we have to deal with the Valmese. That's plenty of time to track everyone on this continent down."

The princess fixed a plaintive gaze on the tactician. "...Is my sister here? What of my cousin?"

Robin swallowed. "I'm sorry. Cynthia and Owain are both in Valm. It's probably going to be awhile before you can see them again."

Lucina bit her lip, then sighed. "...I understand." She inaudibly mouthed two names.  _Cynthia. Owain._ A string of syllables followed shortly afterwards.

 _A prayer of safekeeping,_ Robin guessed. Such a thing wasn't a practice he partook in, but far be it from him to judge; he knew from first-hand experience that there were far worse gods than Naga to pray to.

The tactician waited patiently for the princess to finish, then clapped his book shut. "So, I'm sure you're starving. We'll hit the tavern before we set off."

Lucina's only response was the audible growl of her stomach, causing her to look down sheepishly at her midriff. Robin cracked a small grin. Lucina shook her head before swinging her legs out from under the covers. She reached down to pull her boots back on, grabbed her tiara and mask from the nightstand, then strapped Falchion back onto her belt. She stood up, running her hands through her hair to mat down a few stray strands.

"Let's just be quick about it..." she muttered as she made for the door.

* * *

Lucina tore into a turkey leg, ripping out a massive chunk like a savage predator. Robin took a sip of his mead as he watched the blue-haired woman toss the now barren bone into a rapidly growing pile.

"Slow down," he advised. "It's probably been a while since you've been able to eat like this. Your stomach won't be able to handle the rate you're going at. You're going to get indigestion if you aren't careful." He took another sip. "Also, chewing your food might be something to look into."

"It's- It's  _sooooo_  good!" Lucina practically sobbed in between mouthfuls of bread, eyes gleaming with moisture. "People can just eat like this every day?!"

Robin glanced at the many dishes strewn about the table. "Well, some people. Royalty, for example. ...Which you happen to be, rendering the joke moot."

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. Point being, don't get used to eating like this just yet. We're going to be foraging once we get to traveling."

Lucina looked at him blankly for a moment, then swallowed. She exhaled morosely. "Oh. I see. Back to hunting for lizards then, I suppose."

"What? No. I meant like deer and bear and stuff."

The princess's eyes immediately widened and her mouth dropped in amazement.

Robin sighed. "You've really been through hell, huh?"

Lucina glanced downward. "Well..."

Robin waited for her to say something more, but the woman remained silent. The tactician sighed again and held out a lamb shank to her. "Look, let's not dwell on that. That's all in the past. ...Kind of. Sort of. What I'm trying to say here is, I'm going to make sure that no one else is ever going to have to go through what you went through. So cheer up. Eat, drink, bleed me dry of all my hard-earned disposable income. Ok?"

The former exalt hesitated, then accepted the proffered food. She bit a piece off lightly, chewing slowly. She gulped. "...It's good," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"What? Come on, where's the gusto you had a minute ago?" Robin asked, gesturing with a chicken leg. He grinned. "Isn't it the best damn lamb you've ever had?"

Lucina stared at him a moment, then gave a soft smile. "It really is," she replied. "...Pass the beef stew, please."

* * *

Chrom drummed his fingers against a table. Around him, councilmen bickered about some petty dispute over succession for one of the smaller noble houses of Ylisse. The prince sighed; he despised sitting in on council meetings, but the Risen and Robin's cryptic warnings gave him little choice. He would just have to be patient. He could endure the prattle so long as the issues that mattered were eventually addressed.

Ten minutes later he slammed his fist on the furnished mahogany. "Gods  _above_ , can we  _please_  move on to the more important issue at hand?!" he yelled.

The council members went silent a moment, then began murmuring among each other about the prince's rudeness. Emmeryn raised an eyebrow at her younger brother, who shrugged sheepishly in response.

The exalt cleared her throat, and the chatter immediately ceased. "My brother's breach of protocol notwithstanding, I believe that the matter he speaks of warrants our full attention."

"You refer to these preposterous tales of the walking dead?" the hierarch, Cornelius, asked.

"Not tales," Chrom said firmly. "Truth. I've encountered them myself."

"What fragmented transcripts of the Book of Naga we have tell that the damned will only roam the earth when the Fell Dragon rises again," the hierarch replied. "Would you really have us believe that such a calamity is about to transpire?"

Chrom thought back to Robin's words.  _The work of the Fell Dragon, Grima._  The prince looked Cornelius in the eyes. "It's not impossible."

"Oh, but it is!" an aged councilman exclaimed. "Your father made damned sure of that, Naga rest his soul! It'll be centuries before the Plegians grow bold enough to try to revive their devil god again. And if they do, then once more we'll ride down and put those filthy  _sand_ -"

" _General Cromwell!_ "

Emmeryn's single word was so sharp, so cutting, that for a moment it seemed that every other person in the room had forgotten how to speak. She glared at the retired High Commander of Ylisse's armies, but the exalt's voice was as calm and as placating as ever. "I have not forgotten your loyal service to my father, and I am grateful for it. But I will not tolerate you speaking of our friends and neighbors in such a reprehensible manner. Am I understood?"

Cromwell grimaced. "...Yes, Your Grace."

Emmeryn smiled. "Good. Now, Chrom, I believe you had more to say about these creatures?"

Chrom blinked. An angry Emmeryn was such an incredibly rare sight that her brother had forgotten how terrifying the exalt could be. Chrom cleared his throat. "...As I was saying, the rumors are true. These 'Risen', as I've heard them called, are no small threat. They lack intelligence, but they're horrifyingly powerful and merciless. Already I fear what is becoming of the farmers unfortunate enough to be close-by to where they've been appearing."

A councilwoman nodded. "The reports of exhumed corpses have indeed mostly come from farmers. Some claim to have lost their homes and entire families to the monsters. And more and more of these reports are beginning to trickle in."

"If this threat  _is_  credible, then the people must have protection," a councilman said.

"True enough," Cromwell agreed. "However, our army is not what it once was. We lack the numbers needed to patrol the countryside, and even if we had them, we could ill afford to leave the Plegian border unguarded."

Chrom scratched his chin. "We can't rely on conscription. The people can still remember what the last round of that was like, and they won't take it kindly. But we don't have enough soldiers..." He sighed. "We need help. It would be nice if we could just ask Plegia for some neighborly assistance, but..."

Emmeryn frowned, pensive. "...Then perhaps our other neighbor?"

Chrom raised his eyebrows. "Regna Ferox? I mean, we have a neutrality pact with them, but I don't think they'd be keen on rushing to the aid of outsiders."

"I do not believe that we have better alternatives. Can you suggest any?"

The prince furrowed his brow, then shrugged. "I suppose it's worth a shot."

The council members murmured in agreement.

"Very well," Emmeryn said. "It is decided then. Chrom, I order you and your Shepherds to Regna Ferox. Ply the Khan for military aid so that we may protect our citizens from these unholy monsters."

Chrom stood up from the table. "Understood. We'll set off immediately." He made his way over to Emmeryn and leaned in to whisper into her ear. "Sister. I have something I need to tell you about in private."

Emmeryn nodded. She turned her head back toward the council. "Friends, we will end our session here today. We will give the complaints of House Sterner their due attention when we reconvene tomorrow."

A few members seemed put off by this decision, but the council quickly gathered their papers and exited the room.

* * *

Outside the council room, Reflet flipped a page of the second of three books Chrom had bought for her. "Say, Lissa, do you ever sit in on those meetings?"

Lissa stuck out her tongue. "No way! Even if I could stand them, they wouldn't let me!"

Reflet was surprised. "'Wouldn't let you'? But aren't you a princess?"

"Yeah, and I wish people would treat me more like one!" Lissa glanced at her attendant, who had been about to say something in protest. "You don't count, Frederick!"

The Knight Commander chuckled. "Your desire to bear the full weight of your station is admirable, milady, but I would advise enjoying a carefree youth while you still can."

"Being royalty must be nice," Reflet remarked as she turned another page.

Virion looked like he was about to say something, but then thought better of it.

Lissa was readying to contest that being a princess wasn't all servants and nice food when the council room's door opened. The members slowly filed out into the hall, causing the straw-haired girl to perk up in her chair. "Oh! They're done! But where are Chrom and Emm?"

A silver-haired woman stepped out of the room last.

"Well met, Phila," Frederick nodded.

"And you, Frederick," the Wing Commander replied. "Forgive me. If my pegasus knights had been patrolling the border, those bandits..."

Frederick shook his head. "At a time like this, they belong in the capital, guarding the exalt. You did your duty, and I did mine."

Phila frowned, but nodded. "Right." She turned toward Reflet. "Miss Reflet, is it? Lord Chrom wishes to introduce you to Lady Emmeryn."

Reflet blinked, then closed her book. "Um, sure."

* * *

Emmeryn took a sip of tea. "I owe you and Frederick my thanks, Chrom. I've heard word of your deeds in Southtown. If not for you two, I fear the city would have been lost."

Chrom shrugged. "We only had a hand in that. You owe your thanks to a man named Robin."

"Oh? And where is he?"

"Uh... Honestly I have no idea," Chrom said as he prodded the handle of his still-full teacup. "He kind of took off in the dead of night."

Emmeryn frowned and set her drink down. "...I see. Well then, I can only hope that I may meet him someday."

Chrom steepled his hands. "...Sister, there's something you should know. That man, Robin, said he traveled back through time, and had been a friend to all of us. He knew-" the prince paused, then chuckled at the memory of Frederick's crimson face, "-certain  _things_  about us that no stranger could know, and we wouldn't have reached Southtown in time if he hadn't warned us of the imminent bandit attack."

Emmeryn pursed her lips. "A time traveler? That is quite the auspicious claim, Chrom."

He nodded. "Indeed. Ordinarily, I'd be a bit more dismissive, but recent events have, shall we say, opened my perspectives."

The exalt frowned. "The Risen?"

"Emm, I  _watched_  the Risen come into this world, through giant holes in the sky. When you see living corpses fall from the night while the earth shakes and bleeds lava around you, you tend to become a bit more accepting of the paranormal. Not to mention, I saw a  _human_  travel through those gates. That alone is enough to cement Robin's credence in my eyes."

Emmeryn was silent for a moment, then sighed. "I know you would not be telling me this story if you did not believe it will all your heart, Chrom. I'll trust in you and assume it's all true." She reflected."...So, you saw this man Robin travel through time?"

"No. Someone else."

Emmeryn raised her eyebrows. " _Another_  time traveler?"

"Yes. A young man named after the Hero-King of old. Robin didn't give much detail, but it seems that he umm-" Chrom was now recalling  _Marth's_  crimson face, and he hastened to blot out that memory before it brought the rest of itself into full focus. "-... _Knew_  this Marth person."

"...The matter of how they did so aside, why would these two travel to their past? To aid us against the Risen?"

Chrom sighed. "I wish it was so simple. ...Robin warns of a looming war with Plegia."

Emmeryn's eyes went wide. "I know there has been tension between our two countries as of late, but surely not enough to incite war?! Surely this can be prevented!"

"Robin seems pretty resigned to it happening. He says Mad King Gangrel is the one pushing for it."

"Then with all haste, I must arrange a meeting with him and-"

"Emm. No."

The exalt blinked, and looked at her brother with surprise. Chrom rarely spoke this firmly with his sisters.

The prince sighed and shook his head. "He's called Mad King for a reason, Emm. You're not going to be able to placate him with words of peace."

"That cannot be said for sure."

Chrom grimaced and thought back to Robin's cryptic warning.

_I might be the only thing standing between Emmeryn and an untimely death._

"...Emm, I think that if you try to do this, something bad's going to happen you. Something really bad."

"...Even if that is true, I would gladly pay any price to myself if it prevented another war."

Chrom gritted his teeth and was about to shout when the door opened, Phila guiding Reflet in. The prince bit down his frustration. "We're not done speaking about this," he said quietly. "Promise me you won't do anything crazy while I'm away."

Emmeryn pursed her lips, then nodded. "As you wish." She smiled and turned toward the newcomer. "Greetings. I am the exalt, Emmeryn. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Reflet hesitated a moment, then curtsied. "My name is Reflet."

Emmeryn smiled wider and turned back toward Chrom with eyebrows raised. "Hmm... Chrom has never wanted to introduce me to a woman before... Well, you  _are_  at that age, Chrom..."

The blue-haired man went red-faced, immediately understanding her implication. " _What?!_ "

Reflet blinked. "Huh?"

Chrom stood up from the table. "Hahaha! Emm, I think you're jumping to rather hasty conclusions! This is Reflet, the new tactician of the Shepherds!"

Emmeryn smiled coyly. "Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, it most certainly is!" Chrom said loudly. "In fact, she should go meet the rest of the Shepherds  _right now_! Come on, let's go Reflet!" He grabbed the white-haired woman by the wrist and all but dragged her out of the room.

"Huh? Uh, ok, I guess... Goodbye, Lady Emmeryn!" Reflet called.

Emmeryn smiled and waved back before the doors closed. She was silent a moment as the Wing Commander refilled her liege's tea.

"Phila, what did you see just now?" Emmeryn asked.

The Wing Commander smirked. "Certainly nothing that is my place to comment on."

Emmeryn laughed.

* * *

Robin clutched a turkey sandwich in his mouth as he spread out a map of Ylisse. He released his teeth's hold so that the impromptu meal fell into his hand, then pointed with a free finger. "Alright, this is where we currently are," he explained between bites of food. "We'll head west until we hit this river, bathe, wash our clothes, and refill our waterskins, then we'll follow this trail until we reach Northtown. We'll buy you a cloak or something while we're there; that outfit probably isn't sufficient protection from Regna Ferox's climate. We'll probably run out of food before then, so we'll hunt for game along the way."

"You're forgetting something," Lucina mumbled, gnawing on a potato.

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Practice swords. For sparring."

Robin chuckled. "Of course. I should have known."

Lucina smiled. "Well, it's natural for me to be curious about the strength of the man who supposedly slew Grima, is it not?" she asked playfully.

The tactician grinned. "Fair enough, but we don't actually  _need_  practice swords."

Lucina looked at him quizzically. "Are you suggesting we needn't train ourselves?"

Robin shook his head. "Not at all." He stood up to his full height, then drew his silver sword with a quick flourish. "I'm saying we already have what we need to do so."

The princess's eyes widened. "You wish to spar with  _real_  weapons?! But what if I accidentally hurt you?!"

Robin smirked cockily. "Don't you worry about that. You won't even be able to  _touch_  me."

Lucina narrowed her eyes. "You will not goad me."

Robin nodded. "Good, good. Being hard to rile up is an excellent trait. But I'm not trying to bait you here. One, practicing with wooden swords is disingenuous when you're going to be swinging around metal. You need to feel the full weight of your weapon in training to be able to wield it properly in battle. Practice swords might deceive you into thinking you can perform techniques that are still beyond you. And two..." His grin returned. "I really meant it when I said you won't be able to touch me."

The former exalt's brows wrinkled. Robin's tone wasn't insulting, but his statement still did not sit well with her. She drew Falchion. "Fine then. Show me where that overly abundant confidence flows from."

The tactician's eyes brightened, and he suddenly lashed out with a blisteringly quick jab. Lucina, though surprised, managed to deflect it, then slipped forward, Falchion plunging ahead of her. Robin stepped backward, catching her sword on his own.

Lucina pressed an assault, growing more and more disappointed with each clash. She hadn't expected Robin to be a blowhard, but he was only barely managing to present a challenge. His form was sloppy and his movements predictable. Lucina was becoming concerned that she might harm him after all if this exchange went on for too long.

Robin scratched his chin. "Hmm... Alright, that's a clear enough picture of your offense. Now let's see how you do on defense."

This was the moment that caused Lucina to realize that Robin had been fighting exclusively with one hand.

The man's posture sharpened dramatically, and suddenly Lucina found all of her strikes subverted without any apparent effort from Robin. He casually flicked his sword past the princess's guard, its tip coming so alarmingly close to her nose that she was forced to backpedal. Robin continued with a chain of strikes, each just barely within the limits of what Lucina was able to intercept.

And then, all at once, Robin caught the unique opening in Falchion's blade and flicked his wrist, yanking the sword from Lucina's grasp and sending the blade twirling to embed itself in the dirt.

Lucina stared in disbelief at her displaced weapon as Robin lethargically brought his sword's tip to the woman's throat. It had never even been a contest; Lucina understood that now.

"And with that, you are dead," Robin said calmly. He suddenly grinned. "That was really good!" His tone was bright, with not a hint of condescension in his voice. "I'm used to you being a lot stronger than that, but that was a great showing for how little experience you have!"

Lucina looked at the tactician in awe, still having trouble accepting that a man with such an unassuming appearance held so much power. "How did... How did you become so skilled?"

Robin scratched his neck. "The same way you will. Shitloads of practice, a willingness to put my life on the line in battle, and, hopefully, a good teacher."

"If I could truly become as strong as you..." Lucina murmured.

"Strong _er_ ," Robin corrected. "You were much better with a blade than I am. You'll just need a little help in getting to that point. Good thing I'm here, huh?"

Lucina's eyes widened. She suddenly darted over to Falchion, yanking it out of the ground and turning to face Robin. "Again, please!"

Robin leaned his sword on his shoulder. "This isn't going to be an easy road, you know. You'll lose track of how many times you've been beaten before you finally manage to best me. You're going to have to endure the sting of defeat over and over again."

"Fine by me!" Lucina shouted.

Robin grinned exuberantly. "Excellent!" he declared.

* * *

Chrom cleared his throat. Everyone in the castle barracks immediately stopped what they were doing and crisply saluted.

"Good afternoon, Shepherds," their captain greeted." I'd like to introduce you all to a new member. This is Reflet. She's going to be our chief strategist."

Reflet smiled and waved. "Hello all!"

Each of the Shepherds waved back in greeting, save for Maribelle, who ran up to Lissa. "Darling, are you quite alright? I heard about that despicable affair down in Southtown! Are you unharmed?"

"I'm fine, Maribelle. Southtown wasn't that bad. Those Risen things were way more scary."

"Why Lissa, you should know better than to indulge in tall tales!" Maribelle scolded.

Reflet raised her hand. "I can assure you, the Risen are quite real."

Maribelle scowled at her. "Mind your manners around your social betters, dear. It's unbecoming to interrupt nobility when they're conversing."

Reflet stared at her in disbelief. She was about to say something in protest when she felt a tap on the shoulder. She turned toward a green-armored knight.

"Don't mind her," the olive-haired man smiled. "She has a sharp tongue, but she's a softy at heart. My name's Stahl." He jerked his thumb backward. "And that guy over there is Kellam."

The tactician smiled in kind. "Nice to meet you. But who are you talking ab- GAH!"

Kellam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow! It only took her about a minute and a half to notice me! I think that might be a new record."

Stahl turned toward a red-haired mage. "Miriel?"

"Seventy-four seconds," the scientist replied. "While an impressive time, Cordelia still holds the record at forty-nine seconds."

A brunette woman laughed. "Naturally. I'm Sumia, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. And who are you?" Reflet asked a large blonde-haired man.

"What, never heard of me?" Vaike asked. "I'm-" He belched loudly, in a manner that made it sound like he was saying "The Vaike".

Reflet's jaw dropped. "Whoa! That was amazing! How did you make it last that long? And that control of tone and pitch was incredible!"

Maribelle scowled. "Ugh! I expected such crass behavior from a lowlife such as yourself, Vaike, but I am most disappointed that you would encourage him, Miss Reflet! For shame!"

The tactician frowned. "What's your problem? It's just a belch. Everyone does it." To demonstrate, she began gulping air.

"What are you-?" Maribelle began to ask, but Reflet answered preemptively with a burp nearly equal to Vaike's.

"Eek! How uncouth!" Maribelle shrieked.

"Gahahaha! Teach likes you already!" Vaike guffawed, slapping Reflet on the back. "I'll take you on as my pupil!"

"And what classes would  _you_  instruct her in?" Maribelle spat. " _How to Be a Baseborn Oaf 101_?!"

Reflet sighed. "Chrom, do I really have to deal with this person?"

Maribelle was now seething. "How  _dare_  a commoner such as yourself refer to him as-"

"As  _what_? 'Chrom'? It's fine with him, so I'll call him Chrom all I want! Chrom, Chrom,  _Chrom!_ "

The prince in question sighed. "Alright ladies, that's more than enough. Let's just calm down and-"

"My lord, what gutter did you find this wretch in?" Maribelle snapped.

"Alright, that tears it!" Reflet shouted. "You wanna go, little Miss Prissy?! Because we'll see what good that stupid parasol of yours does  _when I rain hell down upon you!_ "

"Oh, I'll show you one of my 'stupid' parasol's myriad uses when I shove it right up your-"

"Maribelle! Reflet! Please stop fighting!" Lissa whined as she struggled to push the noblewoman away while Sumia tried to hold the tactician back. Meanwhile, Vaike and Stahl had engaged in a belching contest, which Miriel was studiously documenting. And Kellam was (presumably) still just standing there, doing nothing of particular import.

Chrom pinched the bridge of his nose. These were his star soldiers.

_They make up for it on the battlefield. They make up for it on the battlefield. They make up for it on the battlefield._

* * *

Robin was feeling spry. He attributed this to the cold; for someone born in a desert nation, he enjoyed chilly climates more than one might expect. Beside him, Lucina was bundled up in a shawl Robin had purchased in Northtown. The former exalt didn't seem particularly perturbed by the temperature either, as if she were used to it. Robin hypothesized that this was because the sun had been blotted out in her world, causing climates to cool globally.

They had made good time. A journey that should have taken nearly two weeks had been completed in less than ten days, and neither of the pair seemed worse for the wear. They now had nearly two days to gain entrance to Regna Ferox and earn their slots as champions for Basilio. This was easier said than done; recent bandit attacks had caused the Feroxi to crack down on border security. Robin placed his hands on his hips and scanned the massive stone wall that snaked across the horizon.

"The Longfort. A pinnacle of engineering that took half a century to complete. Regna Ferox's pride, a purportedly impenetrable and unassailable fortification." He turned toward Lucina. "So, how do we get in?"

She gave him a blank expression. "What? Why are you asking  _me_? I thought  _you_  had a plan."

"Huh? Last time you came here all by yourself, so I assumed you knew some secret entrance or something."

"How would I? I've never been to Regna Ferox before."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Really? Not even to visit your aunt and uncle?"

Lucina gave him a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't Lissa go to live with Lon'qu in Regna Ferox?"

Lucina now looked a tad confused. "...Aunt Lissa was married to Uncle Vaike."

Robin stared at her. "...Vaike?  _Vaike_?! Lissa married  _Vaike_?!"

Lucina frowned. "And I surmise she was married to Sir Lon'qu in your world?"

"Well yeah, but that least at made sense! Girl falls in love with her bodyguard, bodyguard falls in love with his charge, you know, that old story! ...Although I guess Lissa falling in love with her brother's rival is kind of understandable too..."Robin put his hand on his chin as he stared pensively at the snow. He looked up at Lucina. "Wait, who did Lon'qu marry then?"

"Lady Say'ri."

"Get out. Seriously? I didn't think she would go for that sort of thing..."

Lucina raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Robin rubbed the back of his head. "Well uh, I was kind of under the impression that Say'ri had something going on with, um...  _Tiki_."

Lucina narrowed her eyes. "Are you suggesting that the Divine Oracle, daughter of Naga, engaged in a lascivious affair with the empress of Chon'sin?"

"See, somehow it sounds less plausible when you say it like that."

The princess placed her hand over her mouth. "But wait. You know of Owain. Shouldn't he have not existed in your time if Aunt Lissa didn't marry Uncle Vaike?"

Robin frowned. "Hmm... Good question. That seems like a very reasonable expectation. We're talking about the same Owain, right? Tall, shouts a lot, poses a lot more, always talks about his 'Sword Hand'?"

Lucina smiled. "Yes, that's him."

Robin rubbed his head. "Now, from a probabilities standpoint,  _that_  is weird. Like, doesn't-make-any-sense- _at-all_  'll have to talk about that later. But first, the more pressing issue of  _how the hell do we get inside_?"

Lucina pursed her lips as she surveyed the Longfort. "Scaling the wall seems impossible. It's far too high, and handholds are lacking."

"Nah, I can get us up there with  _Acrobat_. Problem is we'd just be spotted the instant I did that."

"Hmm. Perhaps there's an opening in the wall somewhere we can sneak through?"

"Not impossible, given its fort's length, but gods know how long it would take us to find one."

Lucina frowned. "Perhaps we're overthinking this? What if we just ask for entry?"

"Prior experience suggests we'd only be branded as brigands and attacked. But it's not like the border patrol is particularly imposing..."

The two crossed their arms, both deep in thought.

Robin scratched his head. "...Do you want to just beat up the guards until someone important shows up?"

Lucina tilted hers. "...I suppose that might work."


	5. Shepherds II

Robin scratched his head. "Listen, um... Rinay? Relm? Hmm... Well shit, this is embarrassing. I know I've met you at least twice. What was your name again?"

The guard captain scowled. "I am Raimi, the Ironclad!" The dignity she tried to invoke with her title was somewhat undercut by the way she had been knocked on her back; her heavy armor made her resemble an upturned turtle.

The fact that Robin was perched atop her wasn't helping matters.

Lucina grimaced a bit, her mask giving her a stern expression. "Robin, should you really be sitting on her like that?"

"What? She can't get up and she can't reach her weapons. I'm not in any danger."

"That's not quite what I meant..."

"Do you get off on humiliating me like this?!" Raimi spat. "Just kill me and be done with it!"

"Easy there, Bowl-cut," Robin said, waving his hand. "We're not killing anyone. Not you, not any of your men we just fought." As he explained this, he gestured to the unconscious guards strewn about. "We simply want an audience with Khan Basilio."

"And this is how you thought to get it?" the knight seethed.

Robin grinned. "Well, when in Regna Ferox..."

"I'd sooner die than let a cretin like you past this wall!" Raimi snarled.

"Alright, then," Robin said, examining his fingernails. "You can just go ahead and be the one to explain to Basilio how you  _personally_  prevented two champions strong enough to defeat the border guard from representing him in the upcoming tournament."

Raimi went white as a sheet. "...P-Please help me to my feet. I will bring you to Khan Basilio immediately."

* * *

Reflet yawned loudly. Whether or not it was a lingering characteristic from the time prior to her amnesia, it was clear that mornings did not agree with her.

"You alright?" Chrom asked from beside her. In contrast to the tactician, the prince seemed bright and chipper, and he was clearly enjoying the good weather on their trek to Regna Ferox.

"I'm trying to decide which I hate more: being awake this early, or marching," Reflet grumbled.

"Why, the lower class is moaning due to a deficiency in discipline?" a familiar voice that grated on Reflet's ears questioned. "My, I am  _ever_  so surprised."

Reflet glanced over her shoulder. "Ah, Maribelle. I was under the impression that you were heading back to whatever location had the misfortune of being your birthplace."

Maribelle ignored the quip, smiling smugly. "I  _was_  going to return home, but Lord Chrom simply  _insisted_  that I stay with the Shepherds a while longer."

The tactician narrowed her eyes at Chrom. "Is that so?"

The prince waved his hands in disavowal. "It's not what you think. Really."

Reflet put her hands behind your head. "I'm not sure what you mean, because for the life of me I can't think of a single reason why you or anyone else would want  _her_  around."

The smile that Maribelle proffered was sickeningly sweet. "I'll be certain to remember that and make myself scarce the next time you're bleeding out."

"Ooh, that veiled threat sounds like insubordination! Chrom, I outrank her, right? Can I court marshal her?"

Chrom narrowed his eyes. "What? No, that's-"

Maribelle sniffed. "I shudder to think of what would become of my family name were I to be successfully convicted of charges levied at me by some addled-brained Plegian whore."

"Oh, I see!" Reflet snapped. "The rest of that insult was predictable, but taking a potshot at my amnesia? Real classy for a supposed noble, you insufferable tart!"

Maribelle sneered. "Wretched sow!" she hissed.

"Ladies, please-" Chrom began to interject.

"Spoiled bint!" Reflet growled.

'Vulgar tramp!" Maribelle shot back.

"Pompous prat!"

Chrom reached his breaking point. "Gods, will you two give it a rest?!" he shouted loudly. "I would do  _anything_  for you two to not be at each others' throats for more than one godsdamned minute!"

The prince blinked, surprised by sudden silence. He looked at Reflet, who was staring quietly ahead.

"E-Even dealing with that?" she asked nervously, pointing to the distance. Her arm shook nearly imperceptibly.

Chrom squinted, then sighed. What was unmistakably a small horde of Risen was rapidly approaching them. "Me and my godsdamn mouth... Shepherds! Battle positions!" He turned back toward his tactician. "You're up, Reflet. Guide our swords."

Reflet gulped. "W-Well, first of all, yours is staying right next to me."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Reflet was fidgeting now. "You know what a phobia is?"

"Yes. Why?"

"W-Well, with the way my body's tensing up and the difficulty I'm having breathing when I look at those monsters, I think I might have one. Specifically necrophobia."

Chrom frowned. "That's a problem. Reflet, you shouldn't push yourself. There's no shame in falling back and directing us from the rear."

The white-haired woman grimaced and shook her head. "No, no. A good tactician always has their fingers on the pulse of the battle. I'm not going to let a little irrational fear keep me from doing my job. I'm going to be on the frontlines, at your side. You can be like... my zombie security blanket or something."

A slight smile was brought to Chrom's lips.

Reflet took a deep breath, then began shouting orders with surprising composure, prompting Frederick, Sully, and Stahl to form the vanguard while Maribelle and Lissa fell to the rear. Vaike, Virion, and Miriel took up central positions.

Chrom watched the Risen approach and laughed a bit nervously. "While I admire your resolve, I wouldn't call fear of those things "irrational"."

* * *

Robin placed his hands on his hips. "It's been a while since I've been in Arena Ferox. Somehow, it just doesn't feel the same without an audience calling for my head to roll."

Lucina pursed her lips. "One would think that that would be an improvement."

Robin rested his chin in his hand. "Yes, one  _would_  think that, wouldn't they?" he asked forlornly.

Doors slammed open, and Basilio strode into the room, Lon'qu and Raimi trailing behind him. He stopped a foot away from Robin and Lucina.

He eyed the pair in appraisal. "Hmm, so you're the sprogs who beat Raimi, huh? Gotta admit, I was expecting you two to be a bit more imposing."

Robin smiled. "Looks are deceiving, Khan Basilio."

The ruler of Regna Ferox cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Have we met, squirt?"

"Yes, but I'm not someone you would remember. My name is Robin, and this is Marth," Robin said, gesturing to Lucina. The tactician grinned impudently. "We're your new champions."

"Oho, confident, aren't we? Don't get ahead of yourselves. I take it you've never met Lon'qu then, or you wouldn't be nearly this cocky."

Robin raised a finger. "As a matter of fact, I have," he smiled. "No need for introductions, save for how  _he's_  about to be introduced to the floor."

Lon'qu narrowed his eyes. "You wish to fight me, stranger?"

Robin waved his hand. "Oh no,  _I_  won't be fighting you; not unless I have to.  _He_  will." With that, Robin jerked his thumb towards a visibly alarmed Lucina.

"Leaving your dirty work to someone else, eh boy?" Basilio asked. He slapped his hand on Robin's shoulder. "It's not like I can say I'm doing any different, though, hahaha! Alright, Lon'qu you're fighting Marth. He's all yours!"

Lon'qu narrowed his eyes. "... _He_?"

Basilio glanced at his champion. "Problem?"

Lon'qu considered for a moment. "...No."

"Alright then, get to it! Show these outsiders what Feroxi strength is all about!"

The two parties began to head toward opposite ends of the arena.

"Robin, what are you thinking?!" Lucina hissed quietly. " _You_  should be the one fighting! I haven't even been able to scratch you in our sparring matches!"

Robin waved his hand. "Relax, you've got this. Worst case scenario I just smack Lon'qu around a bit myself if you lose. Which you won't."

Lucina looked uneasy. "Lord Lon'qu is the greatest swordsman on earth, except perhaps for my father! They called him 'Lethal Emperor' across the long sea!"

"Huh, Lon'qu became emperor of Chon'sin? That's funny; in my world you said that Lon'qu became West Khan after Basilio died. Guess he's just destined for greatness no matter what."

"Please don't be so flippant! My father's defeat at the hands of Lord Lon'qu and failure to procure reinforcements are what led to the downward spiral of the Plegian war!" A tone of desperation was entering Lucina's voice. "I'm telling you, we absolutely must defeat him, and you're the only one who can do it!"

Robin was now growing irritated. "And I'm telling  _you_  that you  _can_  beat him! You've done it before! Lucina, you're going to have to drop the notion that the Shepherds are all these untouchable heroes! Right now, you're probably stronger than  _any_  of them, including your father!'

The way Lucina pulled her head back indicated to Robin that she was blinking in confusion behind her mask. "But my father is-"

"A noble who's never gone up against anything more threatening than amateur bandits and a handful of Risen. A man barely out of boyhood who's had a silver spoon in his mouth since he was born. A person who hasn't been fighting for survival almost his entire life like you have!"

The former exalt hesitated. "But I..."

Robin put his hands on her Lucina's. "Look, trust me, I know just as well as you do how strong every one of the Shepherds are going to be someday. Key phrase being  _going to be_. But right now they're all greenhorns. They've yet to live the lives that forge them into the heroes you idolized. Maybe Lon'qu will eventually become the greatest master of the blade to ever walk the earth, but right now he's just some glory-seeking punk. He doesn't hold a candle to you."

Lucina looked to where Lon'qu was patiently waiting. She bit the inside of her cheek. "...You're certain I can win?"

"I'm certain that if I wasn't here you wouldn't even be considering that question. You'd already be in the middle of fighting him."

Lucina grimaced, then nodded.

Robin grinned and patted her on the shoulder. "Atta girl! Ok, I'll be watching from the stands. Kick his ass!"

* * *

Virion let loose another arrow, putting on a facade of satisfaction as the projectile hit its mark. In truth, he was fumbling internally. He had made the long voyage to this continent to seek allies that would aid him in repelling Walhart from Rosanne, but his hopes were gradually beginning to dwindle. Ylisse was too weak, wearied by years of war. Regna Ferox possessed power in plenty, but was leery of outsiders; only a fool would expect them to cross an ocean to help strangers. Plegia held power as well, but those holding the reins left much to be desired—Walhart was at least tempered by purpose; Gangrel was simply malice unbound. And that didn't speak anything about the rumors of how deeply the Grimleal were entrenched in that state's politics.

But Virion did not despair yet. His network of information whispered of war, and that was perhaps the best scenario that Virion could reasonably expect. If Ylisse managed to convince Regna Ferox to forge an alliance with them, then that would likely carry over into a war with Plegia, and even beyond that should they emerge victorious. And Walhart would not be sitting on his hands idly the whole time; inevitably, his conquest over Valm would be complete, and he would reach out his arms to add a new continent to his domain. The Ylisseans and the Feroxians would have no choice but to fight then, and therein lay Virion's hope—alone, either country could fall, but together, they presented a chance to defeat the Conqueror.

Virion watched calmly as the prince, Chrom, decapitated a Risen, his tactician Reflet incinerating another with a fire tome she had been issued. Already, she seemed to be overcoming the timidity that had plagued her at the beginning of the battle, though she was sticking to her commanding officer as closely as she could. Around them, the Shepherds were working in unison to defeat the undead monsters. Indeed, Virion could see that this simple peacekeeping group would someday become a force to be reckoned with. The prince was strong and bold, and his tactician clearly a budding genius. The two fought well as a pair, covering each other splendidly. Their underlings were above average as well, especially the intimidating Knight Commander. For now, their group was worth little more than a standard mercenary troupe, but they nonetheless had the makings of greatness. Though Virion loathed being unable to do anything to directly further his cause while his countrymen suffered, ingratiating himself to the Shepherds was the only clear path he saw forward. For the moment, all he could do was make friends and continue to hone his skills for the day he put an arrow between the Conqueror's unseeing eyes.

The last of the Risen was dispatched without much fuss. Virion strolled up to a somewhat shaken Reflet, who was crouched over with her hands on her knees and breathing heavily. Chrom stood protectively over her, patting her back.

"You did well, Reflet," the prince said with a smile.

"Indeed," Virion agreed. "Though I wonder, my dear... While your command was impeccable, did you not consider a flanking maneuver over by the bridge?"

Reflet looked up at the archer, then took a deep breath and straightened her back. She pondered a moment while rubbing her chin. "I did, but that would have left us exposed to an attack from over  _there,_ " she explained, pointing to a copse of trees.

Virion nodded. "But of course. However, if our composition were to be changed like  _so_..." He illustrated his point by taking a long stick and drawing diagrams in the dirt.

"Ah, I get it!" Reflet exclaimed. "And if we moved west toward the river, then we could have..."

The next two minutes passed in a babble of tactical jargon that flew over Chrom's head. It would have gone on longer, but at that point the prince noticed a new development that he felt deserved attention. He grabbed Reflet by the shoulder and pointed. The tactician's and Virion's gazes following his finger's trail.

Their jaws involuntarily dropped. A hulking, eight-foot tall Risen wearing a plated mask stood across the nearby bridge, a massive axe clutched tightly in its grip.

"Oh dear," Virion murmured, already falling back to a better position.

Reflet felt her legs lock up beneath her. "O-Oh g-gods," she whispered, her lungs feeling short of air.

" _What the living hell is that thing_?!" Chrom shouted, echoing the thoughts of each of the other Shepherds.

The Risen's jaw opened with the mechanical steady slowness of a drawbridge, purple smoke billowing from its maw. The creature bellowed deafeningly, then barreled toward Reflet and Chrom at breakneck speed.

* * *

Robin rested his head on his fist and sighed quietly to himself from his seat in the arena's spectator stands.

_Were we all really once this weak?_

He considered what he was working with. As he had assured her, Lucina was a clear cut above any of the Shepherds native to this timeline, including Lon'qu. And as the tactician had suspected previously, the princess would most likely have to actively hold back against Chrom in the arena. The present Lucina was still a mere shade compared to the brilliance she would achieve in three years' time, but there was no question that she was an unparalleled prodigy.

However, in spite of Lucina's superior skill, speed, and strength, Lon'qu still held the upper hand in their duel. He swatted Falchion aside with his Killing Edge, then pivoted on his foot and brutally drove the ball of his foot into Lucina's gut. She gagged, staggering backwards, but composed herself and deflected Lon'qu's successive series of probing jabs. There seemed a moment when Lucina might have been about to make an attempt on Lon'qu's exposed side, but the princess instead elected to retreat a bit and take a more solid stance, preparing for another assault from the myrmidon. Lon'qu sized his foe up for a moment, then resumed his attack, Killing Edge a whir.

Robin frowned as he watched Lon'qu continue to push Lucina back, the combatants dancing in a circle around the arena.

 _Technique, power, reflexes, instinct..._ Robin mentally listed. _She's not lacking in any of these, so why is she struggling?_

Once more, Lucina disrupted Lon'qu's flow, and this time her opening was clear enough that no one spectating the fight missed it. However, the swordsmaid hesitated, expecting a trap where there was none. The moment passed, allowing Lon'qu to regain his balance and renew his assault.

Robin groaned. _I get it. She still can't shake the idea of Lon'qu being the greatest swordsman in the world. She's fighting like she's expecting to lose, even though she's clearly stronger._ He steepled his hands. _Well, I suppose it would be unfair to expect her to be able to overcome that mental block on such short notice. Doesn't make this any less frustrating, though..._

Clangs echoed as sword clashed against sword; the two combatants were mostly holding their respective ground now, with the exception of Lucina occasionally taking a step backward. Still evidently the aggressor, Lon'qu was raining blows. While Lucina was managing to weather the storm, she seemed unable to reciprocate. A string of impeccably-placed attacks from Lon'qu ended with the duelists' blades locked. Lon'qu's Killing Edge ground against Falchion, sparks flying. Lucina gritted her teeth as her sword was angled away from her, and she was forced to make an awkward step to keep from falling over.

Robin grimaced. _I don't understand. She doesn't have a chance if she keeps fighting like this. How did she win in-?"_

Seeing an opportunity, Lon'qu shot out his free hand to push Lucina back, aiming to knock her completely off balance.

His hand sunk ever so slightly into her chest.

Robin squinted. _Oh._

Lon'qu's eyes bulged, and he leaped backwards, scrambling away from Lucina. Both had gone incredibly red-faced. "Y-You...! Y-You're a...-!" the swordsman spluttered.

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, for Lucina screamed and charged him, swinging with a fierce downward strike. Lon'qu managed to collect himself enough to block the attack, but his composure was shaken. There was a rapid exchange of blows, and when the two swords locked again Lon'qu's sunk slightly, giving Lucina an opening to headbutt her opponent. A loud, wince-inducing cracking sound echoed throughout the arena. Lon'qu teetered for a moment, then collapsed, unconscious.

Robin tilted his head.  _Well, at least she stopped fighting scared... Also, why am I not laughing right now? I really, really should be laughing right now._

* * *

Lon'qu was being carted away on a stretcher as Robin made it to the floor of the arena. Lucina walked slowly toward the tactician. The swordsmaid's shoulders were slumped, and she stared dejectedly at the ground. Her posture did not at all reflect the decisive victory she had just claimed. "...Please do not mock me," she asked defeatedly.

"I won't, I won't," Robin promised quickly, struggling to keep himself from chuckling.  _This is just too adorable._ He smiled and clapped Lucina on the shoulder and grinned. "You did well. Really! I told you you could do it!"

Basilio strolled up to the pair, clearly none too disgruntled that his best champion had just been incapacitated. "Hahahaha! Well I'll be damned! It looked like Lon'qu was winning and then all of a sudden you knock him flat on his ass! I like your style, kid!"

Lucina hesitated, then bowed. "Thank you, Khan Basilio."

The warrior scanned Robin, sizing him up. "I've seen what Marth here can do, but what about you?"

"Robin is immeasurably stronger than I," Lucina immediately asserted. "At present, I have no chance at besting him."

Basilio raised his eyebrow. "That so?"

Robin shrugged, then grinned. "If you need convincing, you could fight me yourself."

The Khan laughed. "Ballsy, ain'tcha? But nah, you're no good to me dead. I'll take Marth's word for it." The khan scratched his head. "So, let's talk business. I'm not inclined to believe you'd champion for me out of the generosity of your hearts. What's your price?"

"Word has it the Ylisseans are looking for an alliance with Regna Ferox. Something about needing protection from the undead roaming their countrysides."

"Ah that," Basilio snorted. "Sounds like a load of bullshit to me."

Robin shrugged. "Who knows? But anyway, point is, we win the tournament, then you give the Ylisseans their alliance. We ask for nothing else."

Basilio narrowed his eye. "What's in that for you?"

Robin glanced at the larger man. "I don't think that's any of your concern. And besides, you seem short of options now; it doesn't look like Lon'qu's going to be getting up anytime soon."

Basilio scowled. "Hmph. Even if he is recovered in time, he'll probably be brooding and refuse to participate. For someone so quiet he's a godsdamn primadona." The warrior sighed. "Alright, alright, you've got my sack in a vice. If you win, I give Ylisse however many troops they want. Deal?" He stuck out his hand.

Robin grinned and shook with the Khan. "Deal."

* * *

"Not good, not good!" Chrom muttered as the Risen Chief charged toward him.

Reflet was rigid. As she stared at the Risen, a memory seemed to be forcing its way briefly to the surface: a woman whose eyes glowed an even brighter crimson than the creature's did. Then the recollection sunk back into the depths, leaving the much more visceral vision of a monster that was about to kill her.

Chrom readied to roll out of the way, but then realized that Reflet was rooted to the spot, the woman petrified with fear. "Shit!" Chrom cursed to himself before tackling Reflet and dragging her out of the monster's path. Chrom was clipped by the Risen's shoulder, sending him and Reflet tumbling for a few moments. Once they had come to a halt, the prince pushed himself up on his knees, hacking and gagging. The creature simply brushing against him had driven the wind out of him; he didn't want to dwell on what would happen if he took a charge like that head-on.

The Risen Chief skidded to a halt, gouging deep furrows in the dirt with its feet. Its head swiveled unnaturally, and it would have attacked Chrom and Reflet again had it not suddenly found a silver lance embedded in its chest.

"Crawl back into whatever hell birthed you!" Frederick snarled.

The Risen regarded him a moment, then swatted at him with its axe like a man would a fly. Frederick jerked on his lance, but it refused to budge. Unable to defend or dodge, he prepared himself for the loss of an arm or worse, but the Risen's attack was diverted by a sudden blast of fire to its chest, knocking the giant off-kilter. Frederick seized a split-second window of opportunity and leaned forward, the axe whistling over his head.

"My thanks, Miriel!" Frederick called.

"An analysis of the situation suggests that displays of gratitude may be premature," the mage replied gravely.

Sully charged the Risen, knocking it further backward by driving her lance into its left shoulder. Stahl and Vaike followed up by hacking at the monster's side and leg respectively while Virion pelted the enemy with arrows from a distance. The Risen Chief teetered, but regained its footing. Realizing their momentum was lost, Vaike and the cavaliers retreated.

The monster swept its gaze over the Shepherds for a moment, Frederick's lance still buried to its shaft in its chest. Despite the attacks it had just taken, the Risen hardly seemed injured.

The Risen Chief hissed, then crouched in the same stance it had previously taken before its charge, this time aimed at Frederick. The Knight Commander silently swore, and hastily pulled on the reins of his mount. He readied to ride, but was not optimistic about his chances of evasion.

"Dammit!" Chrom muttered, realizing that Frederick was more or less a sitting duck without his weapon. He glanced at Reflet, who still seemed a shivering wreck. "Stay down!" Following these words the prince charged at the Risen, leapt onto its back and drove Falchion into its shoulder. The monster howled, shaking back and forth in an attempt to dislodge the prince. Chrom grunted, struggling to hold on, but soon lost his grip on his regalia and was knocked off. He scrambled to his feet, but the Risen Chief had already raised its axe for the deathblow.

The image of Chrom in mortal danger pierced through Reflet's haze. " _Chrom!_ " she shouted, followed shortly after by her namesake spell as she flipped open her personal tome. A barrier of light formed around the surprised prince, and the Risen's axe glanced off it. The undead hissed and swiped with a taloned hand, just in time for the spell's counterattack function to activate. Bursts of light shot out from the barrier, disintegrating the monster's left arm. The Risen Chief shrieked and stepped backwards, giving a baffled stare at the smoking stump. Chrom snatched the opportunity and dashed away from the Risen, heading toward his tactician.

Reflet's eyes went wide. Not only had her spell done the most damage to the creature so far, but Miriel's fire spell also seemed to have injured the brute more than the multiple weapon strikes it had shrugged off.

 _It's weak to magic!_  Reflet realized. She took a deep breath and steadied herself before rising to her feet.  _Ok, Reflet, you can do this. No big deal. It's just an undead behemoth that probably wants to eat you. Nothing worth being scared of!_

"Thanks for the save," Chrom gasped as he reached the white-haired woman. "Are you alright?"

Reflet swallowed dryly and nodded. "I think I know how to beat this thing." She called out toward the red-haired mage. "Miriel! Hit it again! Everyone else, focus on protecting her!"

"How distressing," Miriel murmured as she shot off a more focused fire spell. "We have discerned a vulnerability, yet lack the sufficient means exploitation would necessitate."

The Risen Chief growled and attempted to dodge, the spell striking its shoulder. It bellowed in anger, and was making to charge again when Reflet's own fire spell struck its side. The Risen screamed, then changed its trajectory to aim toward Reflet.

Just as she had anticipated.

" _Shitshitshitshit_!" Reflet cried out, hands trembling as she clutched her reflection tome.

Just because she had anticipated this didn't mean she liked it one bit.

The monster bolted toward her as expected, but then suddenly leaped into the sky, twirling as it made to bring its axe down on the tactician.

Reflet flinched and cast her spell. If everything went smoothly, victory was a moment away. But just as the barrier's outline faintly began to appear, Chrom realized that the Risen's eyes were gleaming far too brightly, and its axe seemed to shine unnaturally. Instinct galled him, and he grabbed Reflet, dragging her through the membrane of the still-forming barrier, like pushing through a soap bubble.

"Chrom?!" Reflet shouted. "Wh-What are you doing?! We're about to-"

She was cut off by a terrible crashing sound. The Risen Chief's axe drove through the barrier spell, shattering it like glass. Beads of light formed and hung in the air, then burst with force that sent Chrom and Reflet flying. The Risen wailed in pain, dropping its axe to clutch at where its chest had been seared by the light. It ripped out Frederick's lance and flung it to the ground.

Chrom groaned, staggering to his feet.

Reflet stared in disbelief. "Wh-Wha-..? It broke through?! But how?!"

Chrom had recognized what had happened. "W-Was that  _Luna_  just now?!" he gasped. "Unbelievable... What the hell is that thing? Even Frederick can't do that!"

The tactician put her hand over her mouth, seeing that the prince was injured. "Chrom, you're bleeding!"

"I'm fine..." he wheezed, blood trickling down his forehead and shoulder. "We were far enough away that I didn't take the full brunt of the backlash."

Reflet became horrified, realizing that Chrom must have shielded her from her own magic. "Chrom, we have to get away! You can't fight like this!"

Chrom pursed his lips. "You're right. I need to get Falchion back."

"What?! No! That's not what I meant  _at all_!"

The Risen Chief was currently distracted by the rest of the Shepherds, with the cavaliers trying to draw the monster's focus while Miriel pelted it with fire spells. Chrom decided that a better opening wasn't going to present itself anytime soon, so he broke off in a dash toward the giant, ignoring Reflet's protests. The prince jumped as hard as he could, reaching desperately for Falchion's hilt, gleaming in the sunlight from where it sat lodged between the Risen's shoulders. Chrom barely managed to latch on to the hilt with one hand, then acrobatically pulled himself up and pushed his feet against the undead's back with all of his might.

Now aware of its passenger, the Risen hissed, and reached up with its remaining hand to remove Chrom. However, at that moment an arrow connected with the creature's eye, causing it to thrash in pain. Chrom grunted and managed to dislodge Falchion before being knocked off, landing with a heavy thud. He immediately rolled away, narrowly avoiding being trampled underfoot.

Breathing a sigh of relief once Chrom had managed to get out of the Risen's immediate range, Reflet honed in on something: the arrow still lodged in the behemoth's face.

"Chrom!" she shouted. "You need to stab it in the eye!"

"Easier said than done!" the prince shouted back. He was now playing a dangerous cat-and-mouse game with the Risen Chief, barely staying out of range of its talon swipes while the Shepherds constantly tried to distract it. "I can't get a good shot in at that height, and it would just swat me out of the air if I jumped at it, anyway!"

"That's fine, that's fine, I can get around that..." she whispered. She spotted something gleaming in the grass and an idea struck her. "Ah!" She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at the blond axe-fighter. "Vaike! Go and get Frederick's lance back to him!"

"On it, Star Pupil!" Vaike saluted before charging toward the discarded weapon. He chuckled with success as he snatched the item up, then raised it high. "Heads up, Freddyboy!" He lobbed the lance at its wielder.

Frederick scowled at the nickname, but nonetheless masterfully snatched his weapon out of the air, twirling it back into an attacking position.

"Great!" Reflet called. "Frederick, hit its arm!"

"As you command, milady!" he replied, galloping toward the Risen Chief. The monster noticed its challenger just in time for the silver lance to be driven into the creature's upper arm. Frederick used his forward momentum to drag the limb with him as if he were in a jousting tournament.

"Chrom!" Reflet shouted. "Stepping stone!"

"Wha-?!" the prince asked in confusion. He understood a moment later when a small platform-like barrier appeared at waist-height. He grinned, then jumped onto the barrier. The Risen Chief glared at him with its remaining eye, and made an attempt to drag its arm off Frederick's lance. Chrom leaped into the air with a war-cry and rammed Falchion through the monster's skull. The prince hung from his regalia for a second, then pushed off and jumped away, leaving his sword buried to its hilt in the Risen's eye socket.

The behemoth teetered, then collapsed on top of the barrier, which shattered and burst in a small stream of light. The Risen shook in its death throes before gradually crumbling away into plumes of ash and smoke, leaving Falchion to hang suspended in midair for a moment before clattering to the ground.

Chrom fell to a sitting position, exhausted. "W-We did it!" he gasped.

"My lord! Are you quite alright?!" Maribelle cried with concern as she ran up to the prince. "Goodness me, what dreadful wounds!" She knelt beside Chrom, already pulling her healing staff out. She immediately set to work healing her liege's injuries.

Chrom sighed in relief as his pain began to ebb away. "Thank, you Maribelle."

Reflet staggered over to them, legs shaking now that the adrenaline was wearing off. She opened her mouth to say something, then ran past them and vomited onto the grass. Maribelle crinkled her nose in disgust.

The tactician sank to her haunches. "Y-You've got something you want to say?" she asked defensively, wiping her mouth off on her sleeve.

"Only commendation of an adequate job," Maribelle replied. "But do try not to so grievously injure our commanding officer next time. Such an oversight is not something to be ignored."

Reflet wished to retort, but she bit her lip, still feeling guilty that Chrom had taken the blowback for her. "...You're right," she quietly admitted.

Maribelle blinked. "Eh?"

"I was careless. I failed to account for the possibility of that Risen possessing the strength to break through my barrier. Chrom got hurt because I wasn't thorough enough."

Maribelle frowned, then sighed. "Well, it was a simple mistake. Perfection is something the commoners have to scrape and crawl for, after all."

Reflet narrowed her eyes. "I know you're trying to make me feel better, but that still sounded like an insult."

"Don't worry about it, Reflet" Chrom laughed. "We'd all be in much worse shape right now if not for you. ...Oh, done already? That was quite fast, Maribelle."

Maribelle smiled. "Thank you for your praise, my lord. You should be right as rain now."

Chrom stood up and stretched. "I certainly feel it. How's everyone? Anyone else injured?"

"A few cuts and bruises, but Lissa and I can handle those while we travel," Maribelle assured.

"Great!" Chrom declared. "Well, let's get going then. The sooner we reach Regna Ferox, the better."

The Shepherds began to march past Reflet, one by one, each of them giving her some form of praise. She remained sitting where she was until Frederick, bringing up the rear, stopped next to her.

"Miss Reflet? Is something amiss?" he questioned.

"Um, Fr-Frederick? Can I ride with you? The shock of that battle's caught up to me. I don't really think I can stand."


	6. Chapter 6

Reflet found herself lost in contemplation as the Shepherds continued their long march to Regna Ferox. (Frederick was unfortunately not the kind to coddle, and had instructed her to resume walking once she had recollected her nerves.) The tactician was only jolted out of her thoughts when the source of her consternation cleared his throat.

"You feeling any better, Reflet?" Chrom asked. "You look less pale now, at least."

The umber-eyed woman blinked. "Oh, I'm fine. I didn't get hurt at all during that fight." Reflet flushed, rubbing her forearm. "Thanks to you, that is... I'm really sorry about that."

Chrom shrugged. "I've had worse. Don't worry about it."

Reflet looked down at the ground; somehow, Chrom's complete dismissal of how she had accidentally wounded him only served to compound her guilt.

Sensing his tactician's distress, the prince sought to change the subject. "I wonder, where did that Risen even come from? I thought that those things were made from human corpses, but that monster was way too big to have ever been a person."

Reflet glanced back up. "Who knows? We barely know anything about the Risen as is. What bothers  _me_  is how something that huge managed to get the drop on us." She put her hand to her chin. "I could've sworn you sent a scout ahead. So why didn't we receive any forewarning?"

Chrom grimaced. "I've been wondering that myself, actually..."

The tactician looked up toward the prince. "Do you think something happened to that woman? Sumia?"

Chrom pursed his lips. "I hope not. She was all by herself. If she was caught off-guard..."

"Fear not, milord," Frederick reassured. "Miss Sumia has been well-trained, and her ability to bond with her mount is uncanny. She can certainly fend for herself. I have no doubt we'll soon find her flying towards us."

"Um, Frederick?" Reflet interjected. "That's a nice sentiment and all, but isn't that a pegasus down the road? Sans Sumia?"

Frederick squinted, then grimaced. "Yes, it would appear so..."

Once the group drew closer to the animal, worry began to tug at the Knight Commander's face. "This is certainly Miss Sumia's mount..."

Chrom attempted to approach the animal, but a narrowly-avoided bite caused the prince to stumble back, cursing under his breath.

"Well, it doesn't seem like the Risen hurt it..." he muttered.

Reflet put her hand to her chin. "It is limping, though."

Frederick clasped his arms behind his back. "Perhaps-"

He was interrupted by a loud crash as a brown-haired woman tumbled through nearby bushes. She fell to the ground, her waterskin spilling its contents into the dirt.

"Oh no!" Sumia moaned. "Ugh, and I just refilled that, too!"

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Sumia?"

The pegasus rider immediately perked up and scrambled to her feet. "Captain! Oh, thank goodness! After seeing those Risen things I thought you might have-"

Her sentence was cut off abruptly as she stumbled and slammed face-first into the ground, causing Reflet to wince. The tactician expected the others to react in some fashion, but they all remained business-as-usual, as if this was such a frequent occurrence as to be rendered mundane.

"Um, we're fine, Sumia," Reflet reassured. "I mean, we  _did_  run into the Risen, but we sorted it out."

Sumia shakily got to her feet, brushing dust off herself. "I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I was going to report back and warn you, Captain, but Catria here got spooked and twisted her ankle." The rider walked up to her irate pegasus and placated it by stroking its face.

Chrom folded his arms. "And that stopped her from flying? Her wings seem fine to me."

Reflet spoke up. "Actually, Chrom, pegasi fly by channeling magic into their hooves and kicking the air. Their wings are mostly for gliding."

"Why yes!" Sumia blinked in surprise. "But... how did you know that?"

Reflet shrugged, clearly equally at a loss from whence this knowledge came.

Chrom scratched his head. "That right? Well, at any rate, it's good that you're unharmed, Sumia. I was beginning to get worried that you had had a more serious run-in with those Risen than we did."

"Y-You were worried about me?" Sumia stammered, a blush coming to her cheeks. She immediately clasped her hands over her mouth, but the slip didn't go unnoticed by Reflet, and for some reason, she was annoyed by it.

Sumia immediately tried to write off the subject. "Y-You didn't need to be concerned about me, Captain, really! My flower fortunes didn't mention anything about death today, haha!"

"Hmph. That so?" Chrom questioned with a smile. He suddenly sighed. "Well, unfortunately, they must not have mentioned Regna Ferox either, because your pegasus is in no condition to travel that far."

Frederick nodded. "Indeed. Unfortunately, we have little choice but to have you return to Ylisstol so that you may properly tend to your mount."

Sumia gasped. "What? But I...!"

"Now, now, milord!" Maribelle interjected. "No need to leave the poor girl behind! My magic is not limited to treating humans; I'm well-versed in the art of equestrian healing as well!" She dismounted her own horse.

"Really?!" Sumia asked, eyes wide. "You can heal Catria? That's wonderful!"

Maribelle knelt to inspect the pegasus's ailment. "The joint is a bit swollen, but I'll have her right as rain in no time."

Chrom turned toward his attendant. "Frederick? We haven't really taken a break since that fight."

Reflet perked up at the suggestion of a reprieve from marching, and looked to the Knight Commander expectantly.

"...I suppose our pace has been adequate, all things considered," Frederick acceded through pursed lips. "We can afford a short respite. But after Miss Sumia's pegasus is accounted for, we will march on until nightfall."

Reflet groaned.

* * *

Lucina tightened her cloak, breath frosting as she stared up into the night sky. She had quickly become restless in the room that she had been assigned by Khan Basilio, which had prompted the princess to make her way to the palace's roof. Her head was clouded by the unbearable anticipation of crossing blades with her father, as well as with the weight of the world she was struggling to save.

The rare occasions when the stars had peaked through the perpetual gloom of Lucina's world had been spectacles she had savored; the bright lights twinkling in the darkness calmed her unlike anything else. It had been an unexpected delight to find that the stars were visible most every night in this age, and in staggering abundance she had never even imagined. She leaned back against the ledge, staring up into the night sky. Slowly, she felt her burdens slip away, leaving an unfettered awe at the wondrous scene.

Because of this, she was startled when the door that led back downstairs opened. Robin prodded it open with his knee, balancing two trays of food on his hands. His face lit up when he spotted the princess.

"Ah, there you are, Lucina!" the tactician called. "I brought dinner. Thought I would find you up here, after your room turned out to be empty."

The princess was surprised. "You expected to find me in such a place?"

"You-" Robin paused, thinking as he set the trays down and looked Lucina over. "...Hmm. No, what I really should be saying is that the  _other_  Lucina used to stargaze all the time."

The former exalt furrowed her brow, contemplative. She reached to take a loaf of bread, then hesitated and set it back down. "You corrected yourself just now. Why is that?"

Robin shrugged, peeling an apple with a small knife. "You're not her, just like I'm not Reflet. You're your own person, and she was hers."

"But we're both versions of the same person, aren't we?" Lucina asked.

Robin frowned. "I suppose so. But that doesn't mean you can't be different people. Even if you both started from the  _exact_  same point—and you probably didn't because my world was different from yours to begin with—you'd both wind up on different paths. It's possible you two really did use to be the same, but by this point you most certainly aren't anymore." The tactician chuckled, then looked up at the night sky, his expression darkening slightly. "Then again, I'm probably more vehement than most about different versions of someone being different people in their own right."

Lucina gave the man curious assessment. Robin's last sentence had carried a surprising amount of weight that the princess couldn't place the origin of. She decided not to probe into it though; Robin hadn't discussed his past at much length beyond their initial encounter. He had made attempts during the nights they had settled down around a campfire, but it had quickly become apparent that the pain was too fresh, the wounds still raw and unhealed. Lucina did not press her companion on the issue; it seemed that they would be working together for quite a long while, giving Robin plenty of time to open up at his own pace. Besides, their conversation hadn't been lacking thus far—Robin was astoundingly well-read when it came to obtuse facts about the flora and fauna of a world spared Grima's ravages, and the tactician seemed to find enjoyment in sharing his knowledge with his sparring partner in between bouts.

Bringing her focus back to the conversation at hand, Lucina began to mull over what Robin had just said. "So is the Lucina yet to be born in this time a separate existence from me as well?" she wondered.

Robin nodded, popping an apple slice into his mouth. "Yep. Time travel isn't linear. It's more like using an Outrealm Gate. Even if something terrible happened and that girl was never born, you wouldn't wink out of existence or anything."

The former exalt felt a pit growing in her stomach. "If that's true... Then what of my world? What of my parents?" she asked quietly.

Robin stopped mid-chew, then swallowed and set the apple back down on his tray. "...Stopping Grima in this time won't undo what was done." He grimaced, guilt clawing at him; he hadn't meant for the conversation to take this turn, but there would be no backing out of it now. "What's gone is gone." His voice was somber, and he stared at the back of his right hand. "...I'm sorry."

Lucina's blood felt like ice in her veins. "You... You must be mistaken!"

The tactician craned his neck toward the sky. "Would that I were. But after I met the other Lucina, something struck me as off. When I compared what she told me of herself and what I could glean from observation, then compared that data with observations of the infant Lucina... There were simply too many incongruities, the most egregious being differing dates of birth. It was obvious to me then that the two of them were not intrinsically linked by causality—had that been the case, any change to the baby should have been reflected in the adult." Robin turned his head to face the present Lucina once more. "From there, it's not a leap to assume that time is immutable. You can move through it, but it will ever flow onward." The tactician swept his hand out, gesturing to the night. "The existence of this world is but proof of it. I traveled back through time, but the destination I found was one I should not have been able to reach; it was one where I had never even existed in the first place. There are probably countless worlds out there. We both just happened to end up in this one."

Lucina was reeling. She struggled to think of a counterpoint, but the looming terror that Robin's words inspired was crashing in down around the woman, stifling thought. She clutched herself tightly, breath becoming unsteady. "T-Then is all this a fool's errand?!" she shouted. "Was my mission futile from the start?!"

"No!" Robin declared emphatically, surprising the princess with the firmness of his tone. "You can't bring your birth parents back." He hesitated, his expression pained. "...Nor I my friends." His umber eyes began to burn. "But that's not an excuse to just roll over and let Grima have his way!"

Lucina sat back, staring numbly ahead. She had been nurturing a still-blossoming hope, a prayer that things could be made to be the way they used to be before her life was ripped out from under her. She had been prepared to give up her very existence for this to happen. And now, she was being told that the best she could do was merely preventing a similar world meeting the same fate as her own's. It was a burden too cruel for her to bear. She struggled to blink back tears, but the flood refused to be stemmed.

Robin became alarmed upon realizing that Lucina was crying now, her arms wrapped around her knees. The man put his hand on the woman's shoulder, then hesitated before placing an arm around the distraught princess. She didn't return the embrace, but did lean into Robin, sobbing loudly.

"I'm sorry," the tactician murmured. "Things should never have happened the way they did. But I promise you, this time, it's going to be different."

They sat there for a long while, Lucina's muffled weeping the only source of sound. After a length, Robin spoke again.

"For what it's worth... He's neither the man you knew nor the one I knew, but this version of Chrom is just as much your father as the one who gave his life fighting for your future."

Lucina stiffened, then raised her head out of her arms. She looked at Robin questioningly, but couldn't seem to find her words.

Robin hesitated, knowing that properly conveying what he had to say next was vital. "I... haven't known this version of him that long, but I can tell that he's a good man. A great man. And I know that when the time finally comes, and you're at last able to reveal who you are to him... He'll accept you with open arms, and love you just as much as any of the other Chroms did. After all, you're his daughter."

The tactician couldn't discern what Lucina's expression meant, but at the very least she seemed to have stopped crying. She was silent a few moments, then sniffed loudly and sat back. Robin allowed his arm to slip back to his side, trying to be mindful of boundaries. Lucina wiped her eyes as she looked up at the stars once more.

"Feel any better?" Robin asked gently.

"I don't think I've cried like that since Aunt Lissa died," Lucina admitted quietly.

Robin pursed his lips and gave an aside glance. "I'm sorry that the conversation took that turn. I didn't intend..." He trailed off, unsure how to express his feeling of regret.

Lucina shook her head. "It's alright. Well, not alright as a whole, but... I needed to realize this eventually. I think that I knew, somewhere deep down, that I had simply been running away from my pain. That I was only pretending that I would someday be able to erase it."

Robin's eyes softened, and he followed Lucina's gaze back up to the stars. To him, they seemed to mocking the two of them—beacons for a celestial realm surely devoid of karmic justice, for no righteous god would have ever ordained the ordeals of this poor girl.

The tactician looked back at the princess, and for an instant, Robin was upon Grima's back. He shivered, trying to stifle the image he knew was coming before it could form fully. The man grimaced, placing his right hand over his heart. "Running away from the pain, huh...?" he murmured. He closed his eyes, and suddenly a vision of Lucina prone in a pool of her own blood leapt to Robin's mind. He shuddered, and his breath caught sharply.

Lucina raised an eyebrow at the man with some concern. "Robin?"

The tactician's eyes snapped open. He was still for a moment, then blinked. "Sorry. Didn't mean to zone out there. One of the problems with having a limited pool of memories is that it's harder to get away from the bad ones." He met Lucina's gaze. "I wish I could say something profound about how to overcome your pain, but I'm afraid I'm still too mired in my own to be any help."

The princess studied the tactician's umber eyes. "...Forgive me," Lucina quietly implored. "I had forgotten that I am not the only one who has experienced such loss."

Robin shook his head. "I don't think it's comparable. I lost my friends—no, my family—but you lost your whole world." He folded his arms. "I can't even imagine how someone could go about healing that wound. But I suppose saving this world might be a good start."

Lucina stared at Robin for a moment, then smiled. "You make that sound so simple. As if it's not a question of  _if_  we'll save the world, but  _how_."

He glanced at her. "And that's a bad thing?"

She chuckled. "No. In fact, I think it's a very good thing." She became a bit somber. "...It's fortunate that I met you. By myself, I fear I would have been overwhelmed by now."

Robin became a bit more serious as well. "I'm glad that you found your way here. For a while, I was afraid that I really would have to do all of this by myself."

Lucina laughed lightly. "Somehow, I think you would have been able to manage."

Robin shook his head, holding out hand his unmarked hand to study it. "I don't know about that. I'm just one man, after all. Hell, I'm not even a god anymore. But hey, at least I'm a decent shoulder to cry on."

Lucina flushed, suddenly realizing that she had just displayed a moment of intense vulnerability in front of a man she had known for barely two weeks. Robin realized his misstep as well, and an awkward silence hung in the air.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_  Robin berated himself.

The princess stood, reaching down to collect her untouched tray. "I beg pardon, but the stress of the day has caught up to me. I'm going to retire to my room now."

"Of course," Robin replied, avoiding eye contact. He watched silently as the swordsmaid headed toward the door. She pulled it open, but paused a moment. She turned back to Robin, and for a moment his breath caught as he saw the brand in her eye seem to shine.

"Robin... Thank you. Truly." Lucina smiled before slipping through the door, not waiting for the tactician's reply.

The former Heart of Grima blinked, his mind unusually blank. He sat where he was for a few moments, then lay down to watch the stars. Some time passed in still silence.

He sat up. "Why the hell am I sitting out here alone in the cold?" he muttered before gathering up his food and heading inside.

* * *

The next morning, from atop the Longfort, Robin and Lucina watched a group of Ylisseans approach the fortification's gate.

"So those are the Shepherds..." Lucina murmured.

Robin grinned, invigorated. "Yep. That's them, all right."

Lucina noted that Robin's face was bright like a small child's.

 _It's not surprising, I suppose_ , she mused. _Even if they're different, these are still the first people he ever knew_.

Below, the two watched the Shepherds marshal into formation as Chrom began to shout up at Raimi.

"You know, we could have simply informed Khan Basilio that Chrom was on his way here," Lucina noted.

Robin quirked an eyebrow at Lucina's usage of her father's proper name. "Well, where's the fun in that?" he attempted to joke. "It'll be good training for them, and you get to see how your father fights."

Someone less familiar with Lucina wouldn't have noticed how her lips tightened at this remark, but Robin didn't miss the expression before it disappeared.

"...And you, how Reflet commands?" the princess asked.

Robin chuckled. "Am I so transparent? It's true, I am curious about that, but I also want to learn more about her light magic. There was nothing like that in my world."

Both of them perked up at the sounds of argument downstairs. They peered over the ledge, where they could see Raimi's guard forming ranks, javelins at ready. Their target was clear.

"Father!" Lucina gasped. She made to run for a stairway when Robin shot out his arm, blocking her. The cobalt-haired woman wheeled on the tactician in confusion.

"You won't make it in time," Robin explained. "This happened in my world, too. Sumia should save Chrom, so we have nothing to worry about. However..." He drew an  _Arcwind_  tome from his coat and perched on the ledge. "If intervention  _is_  necessary, then I'm the one best-suited to be performing it."

Lucina's jaw dropped as she realized Robin was positioned to leap off the wall. "You aren't...!" she began to say. "...That's madness!"

"A measure limited to extreme necessity, to be sure," Robin said nonchalantly. "But it's not like I don't know how to survive a fall from this height. I'm not about to leap to my death. That said, I'd prefer this fight to unfold without our interference if at all possible."

"What is throwing yourself off this wall going to accomplish?!" Lucina asked in disbelief.

"I'll  _Acrobat_  to accelerate,  _Arcwind_  the spears off course, and then  _Acrobat_  again in the opposite direction to cancel my velocity," Robin replied, as if what he had outlined was a rote sequence. His eyes were darting, cycling from the Feroxi, to Chrom, to a still-grounded Sumia.

Before Lucina could further protest this course of action as insanity, the guards hefted their javelins. Robin's breath hitched. He flipped open his tome and began to channel magic into his legs, but a sudden movement caused him to pause.

The seeming absurdity of Robin's plan aside, fear for her father spurred Lucina to grab the tactician's shoulder. "Robin, hurry! Father will-!"

The white-haired man silently cut her off with an abruptly-raised hand. Robin pointing to Reflet, who was dashing to Chrom's side. Lucina's eyes widened and she gasped as she understood.

An array of javelins fell, and a bright prismatic sphere appeared around Chrom and Reflet. The projectiles harmlessly bounced off the magic, landing with muted  _thunk_ s in the snow.

"...Reflet saved him?" Lucina asked in confusion. "But I thought you said..."

"That... That's not what was supposed to happen..." Robin murmured, brows furrowed.

Lucina looked at the tactician questioningly. "Robin?"

He put his hand to his mouth, pensive, and sat back cross-legged on the rampart. "Sumia was supposed to save Chrom just now. So why did Reflet...?"

Lucina took a steadying breath, trying to slow her racing heart. "Perhaps... this is just another difference between our worlds?"

"Perhaps..." Robin reluctantly echoed.

The princess cleared her throat. "Well, what's most important is that Chrom is unharmed. The manner in which he was protected is irrelevant."

Robin frowned, resting his chin in his hand. Something that Lucina had said was bothering him tremendously. "Lucina... Why are you calling him 'Chrom' now?"

The former exalt flinched, then straightened her back. "You told me that he is not my true father, did you not?"

Robin grimaced. "No, I implied that he wasn't your  _birth_  father. There's a difference."

"...Maybe so," Lucina acknowledged quietly. "But until I become more familiar with that man, it would be imprudent to treat him as more than a stranger."

"You called him 'Father' when you thought his life was in danger," Robin pointed out.

"I... I am still adjusting to what you told me. It is difficult to divorce the notions I had been laboring under."

Robin winced. Just because he hadn't intended for this change in mentality to occur didn't mean he hadn't had a hand in it. Guilt was clawing at him now, and he struggled to think of a way to remedy the situation. "Look... I can't say what's right or wrong here. But at the very least—" He pointed to the Feroxi soldiers who were streaming down to the ground level. "—watch Chrom now. Watch him fight. Cross blades with him yourself, and  _then_  tell me whether or not you see any of your father in him."

Lucina was silent for a moment, then nodded and joined Robin in vigil of the border skirmish.

* * *

"Come and get some, ya bastards!" Sully yelled as the Feroxi charged her. Her lance caught a fighter in the shoulder, knocking the man off his feet and throwing him to the ground. A soldier's lance was jabbed at the cavalier, narrowly grazing her cheek. "Son of a bitch!" Sully grunted before swatting the weapon aside and stabbing the man in the gut. The unfortunate guard staggered backward, but another replaced him. Sully reared her mount, raising her lance for another strike. She lunged forward, but her opponent ducked under the strike and darted in close.

"Oh shit!" Sully shouted.

The soldier readied his own lance. Realizing that she couldn't avoid the attack, Sully braced herself for impalement.

But the expected pain never came. There was the loud clang of metal on metal, and then the Feroxi guard suddenly collapsed, unconscious. Baffled, Sully blinked, and then nearly fell off her horse from shock when she realized that a familiar armored knight was standing next to her.

" _Tin Man_?! When the hell did  _you_  get here?!"

Kellam frowned. "Um, I've been with you guys this whole time. You really didn't notice? I stabbed that gigantic Risen at least five or six times..."

"Friggin' hell, cough or something next time, dammit!"

* * *

Robin's eyes danced across the battlefield as the fight unfolded. The Shepherds had already secured the grounds, and were now making their way up the stairs. So far, not a one of Reflet's decisions in tactics and strategy had aligned exactly with what Robin himself had done three years prior.

The male tactician preferred surgically precise hit-and-run incursions to take advantage of enemies' weaknesses in formation, using surprise and momentum as his primary tools. The female, on the other hand, seemed to favor a much more steady and methodological approach, baiting the enemy soldiers into ambushes and advancing cautiously once immediate resistance had been subdued.

Robin smirked. _Perhaps that's why she has the barrier magic and I don't?_

He glanced at his companion, who was with keen interest watching Chrom duel two fighters simultaneously. The prince deftly disarmed one, then knocked the other unconscious by striking the man's head with Falchion's pommel. Together, the prince and Reflet charged a now undefended Raimi.

Sensing that the outcome of that particular fight was a foregone conclusion, Robin surveyed the rest of the Shepherds, who were all engaged in their own personal battles. As he watched them fight clumsily and amateurishly, an uneasy feeling began to brew within him—a profound sense of displacement was permeating his being, and he was forced to avert his eyes back to where Raimi was squaring off with Chrom and Reflet.

Robin winced in sympathy as Raimi charged headfirst into Reflet's surprise barrier spell, the knight once more being knocked flat on her back. The rest of the Feroxi surrendered soon afterward. After the Guard Captain had been helped to her feet, she bowed to the prevailing prince, said a few words, then headed through a door, presumably to announce Chrom's arrival to Flavia. The Shepherds loitered about outside, grouping up to chat among themselves while the Feroxi pulled back to lick their wounds.

"Poor woman," Robin laughed dryly, gesturing to the door Raimi had passed through. "This is probably the worst week she's had in a long while."

Lucina looked at him, her face inscrutable behind her mask. Something about man's tone, its hollowness, had struck the princess as unusual. "Are you alright, Robin?" Lucina questioned. "Something seems...  _off_  about you right now."

Robin smiled sadly. "It's weird. Everyone is as they should be, and yet at the same time, everything seems so wrong." He pointed his finger. "Look, Vaike should be showing off to impress Miriel, but instead he's getting patched up by Lissa." He pointed again. "Sully should be giving Stahl crap about his horse-riding, but instead she's berating Kellam. None of them are behaving the way I expect them to. It's like they're strangers I've known my entire life." He chuckled briefly at this oxymoron, and then his expression softened. "...In spite of what I said the other night, I guess it still hadn't really sunk in completely until now. Everyone I knew is gone."

It surprised Lucina how frail Robin seemed in that moment. The woman gently placed her hand on the tactician's arm. "I'm sorry. I wish I had words that could console you."

Robin smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment all the same."

Lucina reciprocated faintly, then turned her gaze back toward Chrom. "...Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Chrom as you remember him?"

Robin glanced toward the prince, who was holding amiable conversation with Reflet. The tactician was careful not to make his resulting observation aloud.

_Mostly. Just one problem: Chrom should be chatting up Sumia right now._

"Yeah," he replied, his smile this time a bit forced.

"...I see..."

Robin scratched his head, then hopped back onto the walkway. "C'mon. We should probably head inside before someone notices us." He began to head toward the rampart's doors.

Lucina followed suit, but before either of them took a step further, Robin slapped his palm against his forehead, staring at Falchion.

"Ah, damn. Can't believe I overlooked that!"

The princess tilted her head quizzically. "What is it?"

Robin pointed to Falchion. "Chrom doesn't know who you are, but he  _does_  know you're from the future. He can be incredibly dense sometimes, but he's not an idiot. He's going to eventually put two and two together if he sees you wielding that blade."

Lucina started; this thought clearly had not occurred to her either.

Robin unbuckled his silver sword from his belt, proffering the sheathed weapon. "Here. I can fight with just tomes. You can use this for the tournament."

Lucina carefully took the sword and unsheathed it. She took a few trial swings, but the way she pursed her lips made clear her dissatisfaction with the weapon. "I'm unused to the weight. In my world, we were fortunate if we could stumble upon weapons crafted from steel. This is my first time holding a silver blade." She re-sheathed the sword and handed it back to Robin.

The tactician frowned as he reattached the blade to his belt. "Hmm. Suppose I should have thought of that. It's fine though. I'm sure the Feroxi have plenty of weapons lying around. There's got to be something you'd be comfortable with."

The swordsmaid shook her head. "No weapon could be as comfortable to me as Falchion. The blade is like an extension of me; I could feel no more secure replacing my arms with those of another."

Robin ran a hand through his hair, mildly pensive. "I understand Falchion's importance, but aren't you trying to avoid Chrom finding out who you are? I thought that was the whole point of the mask."

"The only purpose of this mask is to ensure that Chrom makes the choices of his personal life entirely of his own volition. Even if he comes to harbor a suspicion that I am his child, that does no harm so long as he learns nothing else about me."

"...You realize that by doing this you inherently accept the possibility of Chrom and Sumia not ending up together, right?" Robin asked quietly.

Lucina stopped mid-step. "...I have faith in their bond. If they are meant to be together, then they will be. But if not... Then I have no right to impose my own desires. Their lives are their own." She resumed walking, her pace somewhat more hurried now.

Robin gave one last glance back at Chrom and Reflet.

_For your sake, I hope you don't have to put your money where your mouth is on this one, Lucina._


	7. Chapter 7

Reflet bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily. It took her a few moments to reconnoiter herself—she was in one of the rooms Flavia had set aside for her champions, tangled in sheets slick with her own sweat. Reflet struggled to calm herself, focusing on the hand that she had most certainly not used to run Chrom through just now.

"W-Why did I dream that?" she whispered. She shivered and pulled the covers tight around herself.

* * *

Robin cursed under his breath, gingerly rubbing the spot on his head that had collided with the floor. He dragged himself up out of the awkward position he now found himself in, having fallen out of bed. Mild head trauma was not the worst on the list of ways Robin had been woken up in his life, but it was up there. He leaned against a wall, collecting his breath as he looked at the sheets that had been strewn about before his unconscious thrashing had sent him over the edge of his cot.

He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes, shaking his head as he made a futile attempt repress the horrific images still imprinted in his mind, the whispers of the past that continued to linger. Of the nights he had spent on this visit to Regna Ferox, this was the third time he had witnessed this terrible vision.

"Honestly, I think I might have actually preferred the  _old_  recurring nightmare..." he muttered.

* * *

Reflet yawned loudly as she headed toward the throne room. What little sleep she had managed to snare following her nightmare had been fitful and restless. Hers was not a particularly good state to be in on a day when she might help decide the fate of a country, but she would have to make do.

Some commotion had been audible from down the hall, but it was only once she entered the room that the source became apparent. Chrom was engaged in a heated argument with Flavia, and neither seemed ready to back down.

"Why are you barring me from fighting in the tournament?!" Chrom shouted.

"Because, as I already explained to you yesterday, prince, the whole point of this championship is to prevent pointless blood feuds!" Flavia snapped. "Fat lot of good that does us if a champion getting killed drags Regna Ferox into a godsdamn war!"

"And as  _I_  already told  _you_ ," Chrom fired back, "I've sent a sealed missive back to Ylisstol absolving Regna Ferox of responsibility in the event of my death! And on top of that, Ylisse already has enough enemies as it is! We have our hands full with Plegia and the Risen! What kind of idiots would wage war with the country they came to seeking protection?!"

"Prince Chrom is correct; engaging Regna Ferox in open war would be tantamount to suicide for fair Ylisse," Frederick added. "That said, I readily agree with your decision not to indulge milord's self-jeoparizing tendencies, Khan Flavia."

Chrom scowled at his attendant for that last remark.

"You want to get killed so badly, do it on your own soil," Flavia said sternly. "I don't care what kind of missive you sent. Wars have been started for far more ridiculous reasons than a slain prince."

"I have no intention of dying," Chrom replied firmly.

Flavia sighed. "Do you have  _any_  idea how many champions I've heard say something like that? I can show you their graves if you'd like."

"Oh, I take it that dying in the arena counts as death in battle?" Reflet piped up. "Feroxi only give marked graves in three cases: for their khans, for those who died in battle, and for those who died in childbirth. So I figure that..." She trailed off as she looked back and forth to Chrom and Flavia, who were both wide-eyed. It seemed that neither had noticed the tactician enter the room.

"I did that thing again where I spout off a piece of information without knowing how I got it, didn't I?" Reflet asked.

"Umm... Right... You're the Ylissean tactician, isn't that so?" Flavia questioned. "Please help me explain to the prince here why allowing him to risk his neck in the arena is beyond stupid."

Reflet glanced toward Chrom, who was giving the white-haired woman an expression that she construed as 'I don't care if you have to  _lie_  to her, just get her to let me fight'. The tactician internally shrugged; Flavia's argument was sound, but she wasn't the one paying Reflet's salary.

Well, technically Chrom hadn't done so either, yet, but that wasn't what actually mattered. What was important was that Chrom wanted to lead the charge, and Reflet was more than willing to follow after.

She put her hands on her hips. "Except for perhaps Frederick, Chrom is the strongest fighter we have. And more importantly, he's the spearhead of the Shepherds. This group is what it is because of him. Asking us to go into a fight without our leader costs us much more than the strength of one man."

Flavia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You make it sound like you intend on fighting as well."

"'A tactician isn't fit to send troops into death unless they're willing to go alongside them'," Reflet recited. She suddenly stop and blinked. That phrase wasn't one she could recall ever hearing, yet she was certain that  _someone_  at some time had told it to her. She furrowed her brow, concentrating, but the haze remained impenetrable.

Flavia laughed, oblivious to Reflet's unease. "I like you! And here I was, thinking tacticians were just worthless toads who cowered while others did the dirty work." She grinned. "But tell me, my dear, can you back up your talk?"

Reflet snapped to attention, then gave a slight smile. "Oh, believe me, I can do  _more_  than that." She drew her personal tome, cracked open its white cover, then flipped through its pages. Flavia raised an eyebrow in interest, then opened her mouth slightly in wonder when Reflet summoned a barrier.

"Amazing..." the khan murmured. "So  _you're_  the mage Raimi was talking about. No wonder she got manhandled." Flavia turned towards Chrom. "It's not every day you run into this sort of prodigy. I haven't been this impressed since the first time I saw Lon'qu handle a sword. Where'd you find this girl?"

"Um... In the woods. In the dead of night. Being chased by literal monsters."

"That about sums it up," Reflet nodded.

"Uh... I see. And what were you doing before  _that_?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Reflet sighed. "I woke up in a forest one day with no idea whom I was or how I got there. The first interaction with another person that I can remember was Chrom saving my life."

Flavia perked an eyebrow and grinned. "Oh? Well look at you, Mr. Prince Charming," she said to Chrom, who was beginning to flush slightly. "Seems you found a gem in the rough." The khan rubbed her chin, smiling suggestively. "If I were you, I'd keep her close at hand."

Chrom narrowed his eyes. "What's  _that_  supposed to mean?"

"Only as much as you make of it," Flavia replied candidly. "Given, of course, that she doesn't bite it in the arena. Now  _that_  would be a real waste."

Reflet immediately sensed an opening. She raised a finger. "You're making an assumption, Khan Flavia. I never said I would fight for Ylisse's interests. I owe Chrom my life and everything that came after, so of course I'd be willing to lay myself on the line for him."

Chrom's eyes widened. "Reflet-"

The tactician cut him off with a raised hand; it was important that her line of argument not be interrupted. "But aside from him? I don't have any loyalties. Don't get me wrong, I like the Shepherds and Ylisse. But I'm not willing to die for them. I might be someday, but you can't expect me to forge bonds like that when I only have barely a week's worth of memories."

Chrom pursed his lips. He wasn't sure how much Reflet was fabricating or exaggerating in order to convince Flavia, but the notion that the tactician was beholden only to him gave him equal measures of unease and a strange, but not unpleasant feeling that he couldn't describe.

Flavia narrowed her eyes. "What are you trying to say?"

"Package deal. Either Chrom fights, or I don't," Reflet bluffed. If Flavia insisted, the tactician would have little choice but to back down; while she was making it appear that she was only willing to fight when at Chrom's side, Ylisse's interests were Chrom's interests, and as such, she would do whatever she could to achieve them.

Flavia's expression hardened, and for a moment, Reflet feared that the khan would call.

At last, the Shining Lioness sighed.

"Alright, alright," she conceded You've got me over a barrel. I'll admit, I'm getting a bit desperate. That bastard Basilio's had the throne for far too long for my liking. I'll take a risk or two if I have too. Hell, maybe the prince will be fine if you're watching his back."

Chrom's face lit up. "You're going to let me fight?"

"I'm not thrilled about it, but yes."

Frederick sighed loudly.

Flavia continued. "The oaf might be one of the greatest fighters alive, but hell if he isn't terrible at running a country. Basilio was born to be a general, not a king. Taking the Head-Khanship for myself is just as much for the good of the nation as it is my personal satisfaction. You lot seem like my best chance, but I'm still worried. I thought I already had my hands full trying to find someone who could beat Lon'qu, but then a couple of strangers show up out of nowhere, hand ol' Scowlface his ass, and just like that Basilio has two even  _stronger_  champions."

Chrom grinned. "It doesn't matter. We'll defeat them all the same."

* * *

Robin idly deflected a number of jabs from Lucina, using his silver sword to swat aside her Falchion with no apparent effort. Lucina grunted and darted in, swinging low, but Robin easily blocked her blade with the pommel of his own. The princess immediately jumped backward, trying to size her opponent up. It took her a moment, but Lucina spotted an apparent opening, a minuscule gap in Robin's defenses. The former exalt charged, throwing out a series of strikes meant to back Robin into a vulnerable position. When Lucina judged the man's flank to be adequately exposed, she rushed him, aiming to end the battle in one stroke.

Robin casually sidestepped her and batted Falchion away, bringing his own blade up to Lucina's throat in a single fluid motion.

"Dead," Robin noted lightly.

Lucina sighed. It was the expected outcome, but that didn't cause her pride to sting any less.

Robin rested his sword against his shoulder. "You can't fall for such obvious feints. Try to be a bit more discerning about when someone's trying to bait you."

"Understood," Lucina murmured. Feints were not something she had much experience dealing with; excluding the few surviving members of the Grimleal, her only opponents had been Risen before she came to this world. And none of those had been intelligent enough to fight in such a manner, save for the Deadlords, who had all been exterminated at tremendous cost before she had even become a teenager.

"You're improving dramatically," Robin said as they began another bout, in an effort to cheer his protegee up. "You certainly learn faster with a blade than I do."

"I'm skeptical about the extent of my progress," Lucina replied dourly, barely deflecting Robin's attack. "After all, I have yet to force you to use more than one hand while we spar."

"Oh, that... Don't worry about it too much," Robin said nonchalantly, gradually increasing the speed of his swings. "I generally only use swords one-handed anyway so that I can wield tomes at the same time."

Lucina grunted, struggling to keep up. "I've never seen a style— _ugh_ —quite like yours. Where did you learn it?"

"Nobody taught me it per se; it's an amalgamation of sorts," Robin explained, deliberately bringing the pace back down to a level Lucina could manage to maintain. While her technique and natural skill were impeccable, her practical application, strength, speed, and endurance all needed improving before she could match her teacher.

"I learned things from Chrom, Lon'qu, Gregor, Say'ri, what little I saw of Yen'fay before he died, Basilio, Flavia, and the other Lucina as well, of course," Robin elucidated. "I cobbled all those bits and pieces together, incorporated my tomefaire, and here we are."

Their swords locked. "I see..." Lucina murmured. "Do you think I might be able to achieve something similar? My own style, I mean."

Robin blinked. "I don't see why not. The other Lucina always seemed to heavily favor Chrom's fighting style and seldom deviated from it, but there's no need for you to impose that limitation on yourself. She knew offensive magical abilities, so perhaps if you- ...Hey, is it just me, or did it suddenly get very quiet in here?"

Lucina raised her eyebrows, then looked around the arena. The other champions representing Basilio, a mix of mages, axe fighters, and armor knights, had all stopped their own sparring and were staring at the duo in shock. Apparently, each of the individuals had taken notice of Robin and Lucina's match.

Robin glanced around. "Oops. We might be overdoing it a bit."

"Really?" Lucina asked. "You didn't even seem to be trying at all."

"I think that's what scares them."

* * *

Reflet's words from earlier ate away at Chrom as the Shepherds approached the arena. He glanced at his tactician, who was shivering and pulling her coat tighter around herself. Guilt gnawed at him; the girl could have just as easily been asleep in a warm bed somewhere else right now, instead of trudging through the elements so that she could risk her life for him.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Reflet?" the prince asked suddenly.

The tactician looked up at the blue-haired man, then shrugged. "Like I said, I owe you my life. And until I figure out what I want to do with that, I'm more than happy to help you do whatever it is  _you_  want to do."

Chrom's face was downcast. "...I'm sorry."

Reflet blinked. "Huh? What for?"

"For putting you in this situation. You've only had to fight because I asked you to join the Shepherds. You could be safe in Ylisstol right now, but I-"

Reflet abruptly jabbed him on the shoulder. "Stop that talk right now, mister."

Chrom blinked in surprise.

Reflet sighed, then smiled. "Maybe I would be safe in Ylisstol, but I wouldn't be  _happy_. I would probably go crazy trying to figure out who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. But here, with you and your friends, I feel like I don't mind as much about not knowing that. I don't care if I get hurt a bit, so long as I can protect that feeling."

Chrom's eyes widened. "Reflet..." He closed them, then nodded. "I understand. If that's the case, then we'll protect it together."

"Well, that's more than enough mushy talk!" Reflet exclaimed with a grin. "Look, there's the arena!" She pointed to a large circular building up ahead. She immediately dashed off, clearly eager to get inside and away from the cold. Chrom watched the tactician for a moment, then laughed and shook his head, smiling.

* * *

Lissa gaped upward awestruck, at the mass of spectators taking their seats in the stands. "Whoa... Look at all these people!" The Shepherds were standing at the edge of the arena's floor, already beginning to run through their warm-up drills.

"Don't worry, darling," Maribelle assured. "We won't be forced to sit with the rabble. Khan Flavia has set aside a special area for us."

"Kellam, Virion, watch over them," Chrom commanded.

The archer bowed. "As you wish,"

Kellam simply saluted before escorting the healers to a hallway that they had been told would lead to the VIP section.

Chrom swept his eyes over a group of the champions representing Basilio, who stood on the other side of the ring. "They're a tough-looking bunch, but we can handle them," he said confidently.

Reflet blinked in confusion as she noticed something. She pointed to a white-haired man wearing a distinctive coat standing among the Feroxi. "Hey, Chrom? Isn't that...?"

Chrom's jaw dropped. "Wha-?!" He immediately began sprinting toward the other side of the arena.

Frederick looked as if he were about so suffer a mild aneurysm. "Of all the..."

Reflet rubbed her chin, pensive.

* * *

" _Robin?!_ " Chrom shouted as he jogged up to the tactician. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Robin turned his head, then smiled brightly. "Why hello, Chrom. It's good to see you again. Have you been well?"

The prince blinked. "Well, yes, mostly. Thank you for asking. But I have to return to my question:  _Why are you our opponent?_ "

"Oh, that." Robin waved dismissively. "Simple. Khan Basilio needs to retain the Head-Khanship. I'm familiar with the decisions he'll make in the future. I can plan around everything he's going to do. But Flavia being Head-Khan could throw all that out the window. One different order in a battle here, one different ally lost there, and who knows what could happen?"

The narrative Robin was spinning came easily to him. After all, the exact opposite of what he was saying was the truth. Chrom didn't need to know that yet, though.

"Then why not have _us_  fight for Basilio?" the prince asked in confusion.

Robin raised a finger. "Firstly, you're not yet strong enough to beat the previous star champion, Lon'qu, so Basilio wouldn't have any interest in you representing him. Fortunately, that's where  _I_  come in." He raised another finger. "Secondly, you all need to get stronger, and in a hurry. The Risen you're encountering at the moment are nothing compared to what's to come. Trial by fire is the best way to forge you all into the warriors you'll need to be." He raised a final finger. "And lastly, you're a known quantity. It's a guarantee that I can beat you. Having you champion for Flavia reduces the risk of someone more dangerous somehow showing up at the last minute. I mean, what if another,  _stronger_  blue-haired guy with an ancient legendary sword happened to appear? We might actually have a problem on our hands, then." The tactician laughed.

"Forgive me if I'm not amused," Chrom said grimly. "I'm aware we've already had this discussion about you and your reasons for keeping me in the dark, but you must know why I'm here, Robin."

"Of course. You need an alliance to procure soldiers to help curb the Risen problem."

Chrom gritted his teeth. "You know this, and yet you oppose us? Why?! Why do you endanger the lives of my people?! You owe me an answer for that much, at least!"

Robin crossed his arms and smiled. "Who said I'm endangering  _anyone_?"

It took Chrom a moment, but then his eyes widened in disbelief. "You... Don't tell me that your condition for representing Basilio was..."

Robin nodded. "Indeed."

A grin was beginning to tug on Chrom's lips. "You clever bastard... You went and rigged the whole thing! Well hell, now we can probably just-"

Robin jabbed a finger upward. " _Minor_  note..."

Chrom frowned; he did not at all like the tone Robin's voice had just taken.

"Basilio is unfortunately not nearly so easy to broker a deal with as Flavia is. Ylisse will have to become a vassal state if it wants his protection."

Chrom's jaw dropped at the lie. "A vassal state?! Are you out of your mind?!"

Robin shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, but those are the best terms I could get. It's how things went in my time as well." He didn't particularly enjoy deceiving his friend, but the tactician swept aside any guilt, knowing that the truth would make up for it later. "You're free to reject Basilio's extension of protection. I can't stop you from seeking alternatives." He glanced sideways at Chrom, umber eyes shining deviously. "...Such as what Flavia might have to offer."

The prince stared at the tactician quietly. "...I see. So that's how it is. Sorry Robin..." He slowly drew Falchion. "...But it looks like you're going to have to come up with some new plans."

"Whoa-ho-ho!" Robin laughed, waving his hands. "Slow down there, buddy. I like the attitude and the one-liner, but we can't go at it just yet. These championships have traditions, you know. Opening ceremonies and all that."

Chrom blinked, then sheepishly re-sheathed his sword. "Right. Sorry about that."

At this moment Lucina drew near. "Robin, it's almost time to begin. We should-" She moved her gaze from the white-haired man to the blue-haired. "...Ah. It's you."

"Marth, was it?" Chrom greeted with a smile. "I should have expected you to be here if Robin was as well."

Robin scowled. "What part of 'it's not like that' did you not understand the first time?" he muttered under his breath.

Lucina stared at her father evenly. "Perhaps Fate ordained that we would meet here today," she said sardonically.

Chrom folded his arms. "Perhaps, but I get the feeling Fate's dealing under the table for you two. That doesn't mean I'm going to lose, though!"

Lucina nodded, then cleared her throat. "May the best soldier win," she replied gruffly before sticking out her hand.

Chrom blinked. "Umm... Yes, right." He glanced over his shoulder. "I should head back. Reflet probably wants to do a last-minute review of our plans. Good luck to you both." He hastily shook hands with the two, then turned and made his way back toward his Shepherds.

A beat passed.

Grinning, Robin playfully nudged Lucina. "Really? 'May the best soldier win'? What the hell was  _that_?"

The princess said nothing in response, struggling in vain to suppress the crimson creeping onto her cheeks.

* * *

The arena seemed to reverberate with the cries of its audience as the eastern and western champions lined up parallel from one another. Robin and Reflet faced each other, as did Lucina and Chrom. Frederick, Sumia, Sully, Stahl, Vaike, and Miriel each eyed their respective opponents, trying to size them up and gain an early advantage.

Raimi climbed atop a stand, then raised her hand. The spectators immediately fell silent.

"Welcome to the one-hundred-thirty-fourth biennial Championship!" she shouted, voice booming. "These brave men and women represent our valorous khans in the struggle for absolute rule!" She swept a hand to a raised balcony, where Flavia and Basilio stood waiting.

"The East-Khan, the Shining Lioness, Flavia!"

The crowd cheered.

"And the current Head-Khan, the Stalwart Titan, West-Khan Basilio!"

The crowd cheered yet louder.

"Champions!" Raimi bellowed. "These are the only rules you need remember! If you yield, you lose! If you are knocked unconscious, you lose! If you exit the boundaries of the arena floor, you lose! And lastly, if you die, you most certainly lose!"

The roar was deafening.

"Take up your positions anywhere you see fit!" Raimi commanded. "When the gong sounds, you may begin! May the fittest survive!"

* * *

Reflet tugged on Chrom's sleeve. The tactician's eyes had yet to leave Robin. "Chrom, I want to fight him," she said, just barely audible over the audience's clamor. "I have questions that need answering."

Chrom nodded. "I wouldn't expect much from Robin by way of revelations, but I have no complaints. That Marth fellow has been staring me down ever since we got here anyway. If he wants a challenge, I'll happily oblige."

* * *

The champions took their places around the arena, each person matched with one opponent. Miriel and Vaike were paired with armor knights, Sully and Stahl against fighters, and Frederick and Sumia were tasked with defeating the mages. Reflet had arranged the match-ups well, and now she was preparing to square off against Robin. Chrom watched her with some concern, then turned back toward his own opponent, who for some reason seemed distracted by Sumia.

"Marth, I bear you no ill will, but I can't afford to hold back," Chrom explained. "I can only promise not to shame you."

Lucina jerked her head toward the man, then held a moment of silent assessment. "I didn't expect you to be quite so arrogant."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Lucina slowly drew her Falchion, then crouched. "You should be worried less about my dignity..."

Chrom frowned and moved his hand to his own sword's hilt.

The commencement gong sounded.

"...And more about your life!" Lucina lunged forward, causing Chrom to gasp at his foe's speed. He drew his own Falchion as quickly as he could. The twin blades clashed, scraping against each other as Lucina tried to overpower her father.

Locked into a standstill, it only took Chrom a moment to realize that his sword was mirrored against the stranger's own. "That blade...!" he gasped, then grimaced and shoved roughly, knocking Lucina back a few feet. She skidded a moment, but then immediately retook the offensive, sword humming through the air as she weaved a lethal lattice. Chrom grunted, straining to counter each attack. As more and more attacks were parried, a suspicion began to take root in Chrom's mind: This swordsmanship was much too like his own, only adapted for a lighter frame. An exalted sword style, the mystery of Marth's future-based origins, and what appeared to be a copy of Falchion together raised many questions, but all of them seemed to be conveniently answered by one possibility.

Waiting patiently, Chrom seized the opening he knew was bound to come, easily predicting Lucina's next range of attacks as if they were coming from himself. Lucina grimaced in surprise, and grit her teeth as the twin Falchions locked.

"Tell me, just who are you?!" Chrom shouted. "Who taught you to fight like that? Who gave you that blade?!"

In reply, Lucina tried to knee him in the gut, forcing Chrom to disengage and back away. Lucina regained her poise, twirling Falchion with a flourish before settling back into a stance primed for a lunge. The mask made her expression difficult to read, but Chrom could have sworn that he saw a flicker of anguish before the princess opened her mouth.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

* * *

On the other side of the arena, Robin cracked his knuckles, grinning like a madman. "This is exciting! I finally get to see light magic up-close and personal!"

Reflet stared at her counterpart. "Are you really so eager to fight me? ... _Brother_?"

Robin's eyes widened a moment, then he scowled. "Dammit, Chrom," he muttered.

"Is it true, then?" Reflet asked. "Are you really my brother?"

Robin considered.  _I should just run with this. It's_ technically _true, and the actual explanation would just make everyone uncomfortable. Besides, mentally framing it this way is probably loads easier on my sanity in the long term._

He nodded. "That's right. I'm your brother."

"Then why the hell didn't you say something?!" Reflet shouted.

"I... thought you would be better off without me," Robin improvised. "And this situation isn't cut-and-dry. Like I said, I lost most of my memories as well. But as for what I  _do_  know... Trust me when I say that it's a blessing that you've forgotten your past life. You have a chance for a happy future now, and I wasn't about to take that away from you."

"What do you mean?" Reflet asked quietly. "What could have happened that you think is so terrible? Do you really expect me to just accept all this vague bullshit and move on?"

"That would be preferable, yes," Robin replied.

Reflet grit her teeth. "Just who the hell do you think you are?!" she snarled. "What gives you the right to withhold my past from me?!"

Robin sighed. "I'm sorry, but I promise I'm only doing what I think is best for you."

"I don't recall ever asking you to do that!"

Robin tried to resist. He really did. It was just far too easy a shot to take.

_Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it._ _DO. NOT. SAY-_

"Well, in fairness, you don't really recall much of  _anything_  at the moment..." he noted.

_DAMMIT._

His "sister" stared at him in disbelief, stunned. Reflet's expression contorted in fury, and she drew her fire tome.

_Oops._


	8. Rival

Robin raised his hands in an attempt at placation.

"Ok, so, I  _may_  have crossed a line-"

"Cross  _this_ , asshole!" Reflet screamed, shooting a burst of flame from her palms.

Robin arched his eyebrows in surprise, then pivoted to the side, narrowly dodging the attack. Reflet immediately pressured him, following up with a chain of fireballs. Her brother ducked and weaved, barely staying a step ahead. After a particularly acrobatic avoidance, Robin paused and scanned his surroundings. Reflet seemed to have disappeared.

Suddenly, he heard crackling directly behind him. He wheeled around to find Reflet a few feet away, a large swath of fire brimming between her fingers and straining to be released.

Robin's eyes went wide. The tactician waved his hands wildly, a panicked expression on his face. "H-Hold on a second! Don't! If you do that this close-!"

Reflet smiled maliciously, then wordlessly unleashed her attack on her brother. At this distance, there was no possibility of him being able to-

" _Psych!_ " Robin shouted with a bright grin. He swept his arm wide, batting aside the fireball and deflecting it into a wall.

Reflet stared blankly.

Robin brushed some soot off his sleeve, looking toward where the spell had impacted the wall. "Hmm. That wasn't half bad. Not nearly an  _Elfire_ -level of power, but still fairly impressive for a base spell."

"Wha-? B-But I-? You...  _How_?!"

Robin shrugged. "Funny thing... Endure enough magic, and eventually your resistance to it goes up to the point where basic spells can't even hurt you."

Sweat beaded on Reflet's forehead. "Y-You've gotta be kidding me! That's insane!"

"What's insane is how incredible our coats are," Robin replied proudly, holding out his arm to display an undamaged sleeve. "These are enchanted to be fireproof, stain-proof, fray-proof, waterproof, you name it!"

Reflet blinked, then held out her own sleeve in amazement. "This thing is  _waterproof_?"

Her attention snapped back toward her brother when Robin drew a  _Fire_  tome of his own. His smile held a hint of menace.

"Now then, I believe it's my turn. And while our coats might be fireproof, and  _I_  might be fireproof,  _you_  are most certainly  _not_  fireproof."

* * *

On the opposite end of the arena, father and daughter danced in a frantic duel.

Chrom gritted his teeth, bringing his Falchion up just in time to match its mirror.

 _Was Father truly ever this weak?_ Lucina wondered to herself, her own Falchion whistling through the air as it honed in on Chrom again and again. The prince grunted, struggling to hold against Lucina's blistering speed.

The fight was a sobering experience. This wasn't even comparable to her duel with Sir Lon'qu. The movements of the warrior before her were slower, less precise, less lethal. If not for the vague prescience granted him by his familiarity with the exalted style of swordsmanship, it was likely that Chrom would have already been defeated.

 _Robin was right. I_ am _stronger than this man._

Lucina dealt a powerful overhead blow that should have jarred Falchion from Chrom's grasp.  _Should have_. But once again, Chrom was half a step ahead of her, and his Falchion barely managed to catch hers, his grip enduring the jolt of collision.

 _So why..._  Lucina wondered.

CHrom growled and managed to angle the swordsmaid's strike away, then caught Lucina off-guard with an abrupt shoulder tackle that connected with her solar plexus.

_...So why..._

Gasping, the princess was knocked off her feet for a moment, landing in a haphazard backpedal as she swung erratically to stave off Chrom's follow-up. The prince hesitated for a moment, giving Lucina barely enough time to regain her footing and create a standstill.

_So why is he able to keep pushing me back?!_

Chrom glared at his opponent intensely, the man's focus directed entirely toward finding an opening. Although he had already received a number of minute nicks and cuts on his arms, he paid his injuries no mind. Even though this had only been the first point in their bout where Chrom had not been on the back foot so far, his attitude did not reflect this in the slightest.

Lucina was baffled. _Why doesn't his spirit waver for even a second?!_

Chrom crouched, Falchion held outward for a lunge. "You're quite strong," he complimented. "I wonder, where did you get such power? What did you have to go through to obtain it?"

A realization was beginning to dawn on Lucina. _And why.._.

There was something else in Chrom's gaze, something Lucina was only just now recognizing. She sank into a stance of her own, ready to counter Chrom's attack with the very same technique.

She gritted her teeth.

_And why does he look on me with such pity in his eyes?!_

* * *

Reflet was beginning to get the slight impression that she was the underdog in this fight. For one, Robin's assault was relentless, his stream of fire spells all only narrowly avoided. Reflet was hardly being given an opportunity to get a spell in edgewise. For another, in the rare moments when Reflet did manage to counterattack with her own fire spells, Robin wasn't even bothering to dodge. He simply allowed them to strike him head-on, grinning cockily when the smoke cleared to reveal that his sister hadn't so much as singed him.

The fact that the audience roared in approval like maniacs whenever this happened wasn't helping matters any.

Reflet's stamina was starting to run thin, and she had nothing to show for it; no matter what part of the man's body she targeted, Robin seemed impervious. Reflet needed a reprieve, a chance to marshal her thoughts. Instinctively, she called a barrier to block an incoming fireball. And to her surprise, rather than immediately dissipate for its counterattack function, this time the barrier held, a noticeably thicker floating glass-like pane separating her and Robin. She blinked in disbelief.

Robin quirked an eyebrow, rubbing his chin as he surveyed the barrier. "Oho! I didn't know that you could do that."

Reflet looked quizzically at her hand, experimentally opening it and closing it.

 _Just now, what I did was as instinctive as breathing,_  she realized with amazement.  _Could it be? Even though my mind has forgotten how to use this power, does my body still remember?_ She grimaced and looked back toward her brother. _If I can do more than this... If I can just keep pushing myself... Then maybe, just maybe, can I beat him?_

With a crackling sound and a shimmer, Reflet's barrier suddenly dissipated.

Reflet stared blankly. "...Ah shit."

Robin grinned, conjuring a fireball in his palm. "Well, well, seems you can't keep that type active for too long yet." He flicked his hand, sending his attack speeding toward his sister.

Reflet yelped and hastily conjured another barrier, which only barely formed in time to bear the brunt of Robin's strike. A follow-up fireball immediately battered it again, causing the pane to crack and crumble. Reflet dashed to her left, head tucked low. Robin's eyes easily tracked her, and he casually flung another spell in her direction.

Even within the frantic pace of this exchange, Reflet was still capable of rational analysis. When she had desired a stronger barrier to protect herself with, one had appeared. Even if she didn't understand it fully, if she could visualize a change in her barrier's properties, it seemed possible for her to make them manifest.

She shot her hand out, a circular barrier appearing to defend her. The flames slammed against it with a loud popping sound, smoke spilling out of the impact point.

Robin, now visibly intrigued, paused for a moment. "Well, well, well... I'd say your abilities are evolving at an astounding rate, but that's not really the case, is it? It's more like everything you've lost is slowly starting to make its way back to you." He smiled knowingly. "It was like that for me too, you know."

Reflet scowled, then drew a  _Thunder_  tome. She fired off a quick shot directly at Robin's face.

The male tactician sighed. "What, not in the mood for small talk?" he asked as he tilted his head to the side, the thunderbolt zipping by within an inch to the right of him.

Robin's right eye scrunched ever so slightly as the spell passed, and Reflet perked up, taking notice. But before she could make anything of this, Robin was drawing a markedly different tome. Something told Reflet that Robin had just upgraded his quite literal firepower, and she gulped.

Her brother set off shot after shot of  _Elfire_ , and Reflet, dubious of her barrier magic's ability to withstand the enhanced power, opted to dodge. Dipping, weaving, and somersaulting to avoid damage, Reflet was now running more on instinct than reflex.

Robin laughed to himself, thinking back to battle in front of the Dragon's Table, when Aversa had been knocked off her pegasus and been forced to escape from the Shepherds on foot. At the thought of his adoptive elder sister, Robin shuddered—the phantom feeling of pushing a Levin Sword through flesh and bone had suddenly washed over him. For a brief moment his concentration wavered as he appeared intensely troubled, and this second coincided with when he began releasing his attack. The opening did not go unnoticed by Reflet, who immediately created a new barrier directly in front of Robin. The white-haired man's umber eyes widened; it was far too late to cancel his spell. The fireball struck the prismatic wall, which began to shimmer and bead with balls of light.

The spheres exploded with a blinding burst, and for a split second, as she looked at her brother's expression of shock, Reflet thought that she had finally made headway in their duel.

Then Robin vanished in a blur of movement. One instant he was caught up in the counterattack, and the next, he was simply gone.

Reflet gaped, staring at a now tactician-less space.

"Whew, that was close," came a voice behind her. A far too familiar voice. Reflet spun around to find her brother standing directly behind her, sword raised overhead. The blade came plummeting down, and Reflet was forced to reflexively cast a barrier spell she was certain would be too slow in its arrival.

But to her surprise, it worked. Robin was too close and too fast to evade, but somehow Reflet's spell had made it in time all the same. Robin's weapon glanced off the magic, then he immediately hopped backward, observing the resulting backlash with great interest.

Reflet scrambled away, trying to put distance between herself and her brother. She eyed him warily.

Robin looked up at her. "What a fascinating spell. I thought that its strength would be based on your own magical ability, but it seems that it can somehow directly reflect the power of whatever strikes it. Some potency is lost, of course, given that no spell is mechanically perfect, but it's still rather amazing."

Reflet narrowed her eyes. "Y-You... You let me get away just now, didn't you? You could have forced me to surrender with an opening like that. What gives?!"

Robin grinned smugly. "Well, I'm going to win no matter what, so it might as well be a learning experience for the both of us, don't you agree? By the way, you're exceeding expectations; I really didn't expect you to be able to force me to use  _Pass_  this early on. Even Marth hasn't managed that yet." He twirled his sword absentmindedly. "Of course, you won't be able to do that a second time."

Reflet could feel the first tendrils of terror creeping into her. Robin was  _strong_. Far,  _far_  too strong. If was becoming clear to Reflet now that if Robin wished it, he could most likely slaughter every one of the Shepherds without suffering so much as a single scratch. Sibling-hood aside, she might as well have been a plaything to him, a novelty to be explored before defeating utterly and overwhelmingly.

_It's pointless. I can't beat him. There's no way I can match his power._

Reflet's eyes widened as an image of Robin's surprised face suddenly flashed through her mind.

_...Or can I?_

The female tactician's eyes darted down to her white tome. Robin had avoided the recoil from her barrier spell, where up until that point he had simply allowed her other magic to strike him without effect. Dodging implied some degree of danger, did it not? Dodging implied a desire for avoidance, and a desire for avoidance implied predictability.

And predictability implied potential for defeat.

Hazily, the vague outlines of a plan began to form in Reflet's mind. Defeating Robin in a straight contest would be impossible, she did not question this. The gap in their abilities was too vast, and Robin seemed by all means a shrewd opponent; his eyes were ever bright, quick, and calculating. Reflet gripped her white tome tightly, her mind racing as she struggled to align every piece of available information into a configuration that gave her even a slim chance. It would take near-perfect use of abilities she barely understood, and Robin's confidence blinding him to an opening, but all the same, she could faintly see an ever-so-slight possibility of victory. She swallowed dryly as she eyed the arena walls and the spectators above them.

_I can't defeat him. But maybe I don't have to._

She drew her  _Thunder_  tome.

* * *

The West-Khan slammed his fist on the table in front of him. " _Godsdammit_!" he shouted at Robin off in the distance. "Quit toying with her and finish it already, you asshole!"

"...Basilio, where the hell did you find this guy?" Flavia murmured, arms crossed as she leaned against the balcony's edge, eyes locked on the white-haired man. "How have we never heard of someone this strong...?"

"Hahaha! I'm just as surprised!" Basilio chuckled. "I thought for sure that Marth was exaggerating, but the brat lives up to the hype!"

"He could make a mockery of this entire tournament if he felt like it. Gods, he might even be a match for us..."

Basilio snorted and took a long drink from his tankard. "Oh please," he scoffed after he finished. "The kid's good, no doubt about it, but he's still a wet-behind-the-ears little shit.  _Maybe_  he'd be able to give you or I a serious challenge, but he would never beat me in a straight fight. He's powerful and skilled, and his eyes make it clear he's no stranger to death, but the difference between our experience is like night and day."

Flavia smirked. "Hmph. As overconfident as ever, I see. But I do agree, the kid's still got a bit of softness to him." She scratched her chin contemplatively, her eyes suddenly devious. "Well, seeing as you already have Lon'qu as a protégée, I'm sure you wouldn't mind me poaching this prospect, eh, Oaf?"

Basilio laughed. "Like hell! You think I'm just going to let a free ticket to remaining Head Khan for the rest of my life slip from my fingers?!" He took another gulp of ale. "My condolences, by the way. It must sting awfully fierce to know you never had a shot in this year's tournament to begin with."

Flavia leaned her chin on her hand as she eyed first Reflet, then Chrom. "Hah. Nothing is surefire, Basilio. We've both played out our hands, and while you might hold the high cards, you never know what the river is going to show."

* * *

Robin watched with bemused interest as Reflet struggled to contain brimming lightning between her fingers.

Reflet wasn't stupid. By now it should have been clear to the woman that she couldn't harm her brother in this manner, so Robin couldn't help but be a bit curious as to his sister's intentions.

No longer able to compress her magic any longer, Reflet let out a shout as she shot a large bolt at her brother.

Or rather, her brother's feet.

Robin quirked an eyebrow as the attack left a small crater in the ground, causing to dust billow out from beneath him. "Oh?" His eyes instinctively homed in on Reflet, who was now darting around to circle him, a fresh lightning spell clasped tightly in her grip. She fired it off immediately, once again targeting the ground near Robin's feet. Even more dust billowed out from the impact, and her intent became clear right as she herself became obfuscated from Robin's view. More and more magic struck the ground as rapidly as Reflet could conjure it, and Robin was soon completely engulfed by the dust cloud.

In all honesty, Robin knew that he could probably snipe Reflet with some spell from where he was despite of his vision being blocked; he had a rather rudimentary grasp on her movement by this point. And of course, he could always simply use  _Pass_ or  _Acrobat_  to escape and then corner her. But then, he  _was_  supposed to throw the match at some point. Flavia needed to win, which meant Robin needed to take a dive.

The male tactician smiled.  _At the very least, I should probably make Reflet work for her victory._

He casually drew a  _Thunder_  tome of his own. Reflet's was a clever plan, he had to admit. He would have been hard-pressed to come up with something better in her position. And against anyone else, the trick she was about to attempt probably would have worked.

Robin's vision suddenly seemed to shimmer, causing him to grin.

_Just as anticipated._

He gathered lightning in his palm.

* * *

Reflet warily eyed the cloud of dust, her white tome clutched tightly in her grasp. Her entire body was tense; she half-expected Robin to suddenly tap her on the shoulder. She swallowed dryly.

The dust dissipated, and Reflet breathed a massive sigh of relief.

There remained Robin, completely encircled by a prismatic dome. He stood with his arms cross, looking Reflet dead in the eyes. The man's twin wanted to laugh; had she actually done it? Had she actually trapped him?

Reflet breathed to steady herself, then grinned and put on a show of bravado. "Go ahead and try getting out of that!" she shouted triumphantly. "That's my strongest barrier, and I can keep it up for as long as I want!"

_Technically not a lie. Probably._

"Even if you can break it, I doubt you can handle the backlash!" she taunted.

Robin simply smirked, and pointed upward with a solitary index finger.

Reflet looked up, and her jaw dropped. An orb of lightning hung suspended in midair. She blinked in confusion, and then her eyes widened in panic as she understood. The ball was now plummeting downward; what she had witnessed was the apex of its trajectory's arc.

She took a step backward reflexively.  _Oh gods._

The thunder magic collided with the barrier with a loud cracking noise, causing the bubble to shimmer and then shatter outward with blinding force.

None of which was directed towards Robin.

As the last of the light magic faded, Robin took a step out from where his makeshift prison had been. He began to clap slowly. "Not bad, Sis. It was a fine idea, trying to plant a false notion that you were hiding from me, and then using  _that_  thought to disguise your plan to capture me with barrier magic. Unfortunately..." He sighed, his tone now more stern. "It was clear that this was your only option. After all, if you yourself couldn't hurt me, then your best recourse would be to make me hurt  _myself_. So-"

"So it was obvious that I would try to trap you," Reflet concluded for him. "You were waiting for my barrier to begin to appear this whole time. You launched that thunder spell long before you became encased."

Robin snapped his fingers. "Correct! If you hadn't been so overly fixated on my position, you probably would have noticed my spell emerging from the dust. What's more, you might have had a chance at stopping it from connecting with the barrier if you had immediately fired off your own  _Thunder_." His eyes narrowed. "You were too attached to a specific part of the plan. You treated it as a constant rather than a variable, and because of that, you lost an opportunity for invaluable information. If I hadn't been able to break the barrier with an external force, what would I have had to do?"

A chill crawled up Reflet's spine at the rhetorical question. Robin wasn't speaking as if he had just bested her trump card. Had he really seen that far ahead? Had he already realized that this sequence had only been a ploy to further test her abilities and maybe, hopefully, cheat a little damage onto him?

She grimaced.  _No use worrying about that. If he really has figured out what I'm up to, then I can't win no matter what. I just have to hope he hasn't caught on yet. Just have to pretend everything's going perfectly fine._

Robin crossed his arms. "By the way, I'm rather impressed over here. I didn't expect you to be able to form such a complex shape with your barriers. Did you combine multiple spells to pull that off, or did you somehow manage to use a higher level of the base spell?"

"Why should I tell you, jerk?" Reflet jeered, sticking her tongue out. "And save your praise for after I've laid your ass out!"

Robin blinked, then grinned savagely.

* * *

"Hmm... This isn't going too well," Kellam said glumly, scratching his cheek.

"Whatever do you mean, dear knight?" Maribelle asked incredulously, sitting daintily with her legs crossed while spectating through opera glasses. "Our side is clearly advantaged, save for Lord Chrom's and that Reflet girl's battles."

"That's the problem," Lissa murmured gloomily, resting her chin on the balcony of the arena's VIP lounge.

Maribelle turned her head toward her friend. "Whatever do you mean, treasure?"

"It's that man, Robin," Virion explained. "The remainder of the bouts may well be meaningless as long as he remains undefeated."

What Virion elected not to reveal, and only concealed with great difficulty, was his mounting excitement. When he had come to this continent, he had only expected the possibility of obtaining the aid of armies. There had been a chance that he could match the might of the Valmese host, but he had not dared to hope he could find a champion to combat their titans. And yet, here, right before his eyes and in less than a month after arrival, he had stumbled upon this magnificent specimen.

 _My gods, this man might be Yen'fay's equal,_  Virion thought to himself. Most other people probably couldn't see through the facade immediately, but Virion could sense the strength hidden within Robin's movements, the same aura of refined and restrained power that radiated from not only from Walhart's right hand, but from the two khans in the balcony opposite. It was apparent to the duke that even this display Robin was demonstrating was but a shade of his true ability.

Virion needed that man's strength. Robin was a diamond glistening in the rough, and the Duke of Roseanne needed to snatch him up before someone else did.

Lissa sighed loudly, startling Virion out of his admiration. "Yeah. Robin's super strong. Like  _really_  strong. I don't think even Chrom and Frederick together could beat him." She pouted. "But why is he fighting us in the first place? I thought he was our friend..."

"There, there, darling," Maribelle tutted. "No need to trouble yourself over the inconsistency of a commoner. Have faith in Lord Chrom. He'll surely carry the day."

"That's not what's bothering me..." Lissa muttered.

* * *

"I yield!" a Feroxi knight shouted.

Frederick calmly pulled his lance out of the man's shoulder, blood spilling out from the clean puncture in his pauldron. He paid no mind to Raimi's declaration of his victory, turning instead to survey the ongoing battles. Though interference in duels was forbidden in this tournament, Frederick  _was_  permitted to take a defeated comrade's place. Thankfully, the majority of Shepherds seemed to have the upper hand at the moment. Unfortunately though, much to the Knight Commander's displeasure, he had been positioned at the opposite end of the arena from Lord Chrom. From this distance he was unable to discern how his master was faring.

The Knight Commander immediately set off in a brisk jog toward his liege's location. He held the utmost faith in his lord's abilities, but were he to be bested (Frederick had had to mentally force himself not to consider the word "fall"), then the task of defeating the mysterious Marth would belong to Frederick himself.

Along the way he passed Stahl and Miriel, both of whom appeared to be evenly matched with their respective foes. He ignored them; if they were not currently in a losing position then he had no need for concern.

One last person was between Frederick and his destination. An exhausted Sumia crouched on the floor, panting heavily. A Feroxi mage was staggering away from her, clutching an ugly-looking lance wound to the side. Sumia, for her part, seemed relatively well-off. She smiled at her commanding officer as he approached.

"I should have known you would win quickly, sir," she laughed.

Frederick permitted himself a small smile of his own. "Tardiness is ill-becoming of my station. And might I say, a job well-done, Miss Sumia."

Sumia laughed. "Thank you, sir." She glanced toward Chrom's fight a ways off. "You're going to watch him, I take it?"

Frederick nodded. "Of course.

Sumia sighed. "Well, I'd come with you, but I think I need to catch my breath. Everything's so much  _harder_  when you're not allowed to ride a pegasus."

"There's no need, Miss Sumia," Frederick replied. "I am only standing vigil in the event I need take Lord Chrom's place. Forgive my bluntness, but if I am also unable to defeat Marth, then neither will you be capable. I understand that you are worried about Lord Chrom, but it would be best for you to prepare yourself in the event that you need to take the place of another of the Shepherds."

Sumia blinked, cheeks gaining a pink tint. "W-Worried? What do you mean by that! I'm not  _that_  worried about the captain! I mean, that Marth fellow-" She suddenly paused. "That Marth fellow..."

Frederick raised an eyebrow as Sumia fell into silence for a few seconds. "Miss Sumia?" he asked.

Sumia was still pondering. "It's weird. I feel like I know Marth from somewhere."

Frederick widened his eyes in surprise. "You've met him before?"

Sumia shook her head emphatically. "No, I'm positive I've never seen him in my life. It's just... Isn't there something kind of  _familiar_  about him? Like I just get this really weird feeling that I'm... that I'm  _supposed_  to know him, you know?"

Frederick looked at her, confused. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean."

Sumia rested her chin in her hand. "I'm not really sure that I do either."

* * *

Lucina gritted her teeth in frustration. This was maddening. The Chrom who was her father and the Chrom who was this stranger kept alternating, refusing to settle into a constant identity. At one moment he was weak, barely able to hold his ground—an utter greenhorn, powerless and too ignorant of the world to be able to change it, much less save it. A shadow of a man, unworthy of bearing her father's name, much less his visage.

But the next, he bore  _his_  exact same eyes: That unflinching resolve, tough as steel, yet tempered by his generous and kind soul. And in those moments, he was just as much the warrior her father had always been, blazing his own path without a single doubt and standing firm against her. A fake who was the genuine article.

Lucina's emotions were reaching a breaking point. She furiously clashed with Chrom, Falchions screeching as they ground against each other.

"Tell me who you really are!" she screamed.

Chrom cocked an eyebrow. "An odd demand, coming from someone who wears a mask, and especially so soon after I asked you much the same thing." His expression hardened, and once more he had those same damned eyes. "I'm not sure what you mean, but I'll tell you this right now: I'm not hiding a single thing about myself. Everything you need to know about me, you can figure out yourself."

Lucina's jaw dropped a fraction, and in that instant Chrom forced her away with a tremendous heave. Lucina skidded to a halt, her stance maintained, but she found herself unable to renew her assault: Chrom had her pinned by that baffling, pitying gaze.

"There are many questions about you that I'd like answers for, Marth," the prince said. "And somehow I get the feeling there are just as many things you want to ask  _me_. It's strange, but in my heart of hearts I don't think either of us truly wants to be fighting the other." He frowned. "But my purpose won't let me spare you that sort of kindness."

A retort flashed through Lucina's mind about her own purpose, far greater than this man could imagine, but the words failed to reach her lips.

Chrom pointed Falchion at Lucina, arm outstretched.

"I have people who need protecting, and you're in my way. And if you won't move, then you will  _be_  moved."


	9. Two Falchions

Reflet clapped her hands together, then slammed them down on the ground. A barrier materialized around her, forming in the shape of a dome. Just as soon as the spell had solidified, the woman produced a  _Thunder_  tome from her coat. She quickly generated lightning, then lobbed it into the ground, creating a bloom of dust. She rapidly repeated this process, struggling not to cough as she became enveloped.

Robin straightened his posture as he watched the barrier shell fill completely, obfuscating Reflet from sight. The male tactician was mildly; this hadn't been a move he had anticipated. He cautiously approached his sister's defensive measure, his own  _Thunder_  tome held in hand.

The barrier abruptly evaporated, and the dust trapped within spilled forth. Robin backpedaled, careful to stay out of the blossoming cloud. He began to circle, searching for signs of where his sister might have exited. He stared up at the heightening pillar of displaced dirt. Was Reflet actually still inside there? Robin stifled the temptation to just use _Arcwind_  to clear the dust; employing a tome of that level would simply be unsporting. Instead, he fired a  _Thunder_  into the shapeless mass. He waited a few moments, then heard a muffled sound where his attack must have collided with the wall on the other side. He frowned. It was unlikely that Reflet had avoided that while effectively blind through sheer luck. So how had she done it?

At last enough of the dust drifted upward for Robin to obtain a clear.

And to the man's shock, Reflet was nowhere to be found.

Robin whipped his head about, scanning for where his sister might be hiding. He found no indication of her presence, but his eyes did fall upon something: a single barrier platform, hovering at about five feet off the ground. A thought occurred to Robin: there was one direction he hadn't checked yet. He craned his neck toward the ceiling to find a series of escalating platforms, each roughly five feet above the prior in a staircase pattern. Reflet was just now clambering onto the top one. She got to her feet, then immediately conjured the next step.

Robin gaped in disbelief.  _Is she insane? She has to be insane. Was_ I _this insane? I don't remember being this insane._

Beyond adding the risk of falling to her death to an already unwinnable battle, Robin couldn't fathom what Reflet stood to gain from elevating her position. He glanced at the still tangible step hovering near him.  _A trap, perhaps?_  Robin stepped toward the first barrier, the most likely place for Reflet to have rigged something. He pressed his hand down and held it there, but no reaction occurred. The tactician rubbed his chin.  _Am I giving her too much credit?_  His eyebrows suddenly shot up.  _No. If she wasn't planning on using these for something, wouldn't she dissolve them to keep me from pursuing? Maybe the trap is set on a different panel, or perhaps it's pressure-sensitive and will only trigger if I place too much weight on it._ He glanced upward, where Reflet was just coming to a stop, the woman dragging herself up onto a platform hovering some thirty feet above the ground. She stooped into a crouch, staring down at her brother while she opened a tome and spread it open. The female tactician began murmuring to herself as a pale light began to fill her hands, steadily pulsing in a vibrant rhythm.

Robin tilted his head.  _What are you up to? Did you run up there to buy time?_

If he had to make an approximation, Robin would have guessed that Reflet was more powerful than he himself had been at this respective point in time, but he still didn't believe for a moment that at present that his "twin" would be capable of injuring him with spellcraft. Nonetheless, the obtuse nature of light magic gave Robin pause. Reflet clearly seemed to be building up to something. Was it possible that through some novel application of the principles behind her power, she could amplify her attacking capabilities enough to injure him? Or was there some other purpose to the spell she was weaving right this moment?

 _Another purpose?_  Robin stood up straight, and couldn't help but begin to chuckle.  _Ah. Of course. How careless of me; I almost got caught up in her pace. It should've been immediately obvious._  He smirked up at the platforms, channeling magic into his feet.

Now that he thought about it, he realized that this situation was a better opportunity than he could have hoped for. Admittedly, he had gotten carried away in showing off during this fight, and had been starting to become concerned that he would be unable to throw the match in a believable manner. However, this precarious situation now provided him with an out. Should Reflet fall from the lofty heights she had lifted herself up to, he could jump after her. With a bit of effort, he would be able to catch her, fling her over the wall, then dampen his own impact on the ground with  _Arcwind_. A convincing collision, while painful, would be all he needed to realistically fake falling unconscious. Reflet would be disqualified as well for going out of bounds, but that would be all the better—their match ending in a draw would be far more palatable to Basilio than a straight loss on Robin's part. There would still be the issue of Lucina's match, of course, but Robin wasn't overly worried about that, for even if the princess became overzealous and defeated her father, she was still not at a level where she could best Frederick afterward in quick succession.

Robin grinned manically as he prepared to release his spell. Here Reflet had gone through all of this effort to set up her trap, and he was about to circumvent it entirely in the space of three seconds.

He could not  _wait_  to see the expression on her face.

* * *

"What in the-?!" Chrom gaped. "Is that Reflet?! What in the name of Naga is she doing up there?!"

Irritation flickered across Lucina's face as she took in the visible alarm on Chrom's. She lunged, nearly catching her father off-guard. "What does it matter?" the princess hissed. "What is she to you?"

Chrom's brow jutted up, then he immediately glowered. "You seem to be implying something. Whatever it is, though, it's none of your concern."

Lucina growled and swung with a speed surpassing what Chrom had experienced thus far. The prince only barely managed to deflect the strike, the Parallel Falchion's tip raking across his cheek and drawing a thin line of blood.

"I beg to differ," Lucina stated simply and quietly before dashing forward, dragging Chrom's full attention back to their duel. As their mirrored blades clashed, Lucina couldn't help but glance up at the female tactician, indignation burning in her gut.

She knew that she didn't have the right to interfere. She knew that it would be wrong to impose her desires upon these people. She knew that she was jumping to conclusions, and treating assumptions as inevitability. And in the back of her mind, she even felt a twinge of guilt for harboring this grudge against someone so close to Robin.

But even still, she couldn't stifle the disdain toward Reflet growing within her.

* * *

An ordinary person would have accepted their limitations. An ordinary person would recognize the futility of struggling against a foe wielding such superior strength.

Reflet welcomed the challenge.

Her plan was madness. She recognized that. Without the reckless abandon that came hand-in-hand with being "newborn", she most certainly would never have attempted it. Never mind the fact that in a real battle Robin would kill her twenty times over before she even had a chance to accidentally do so herself.

She struggled to control her breathing. This was the first time that she had conjured her barriers without relying on the power stored within the pages of her tome, and the effect was exhausting. Unfortunately, she didn't yet have the experience necessary for maintaining a complicated series of spells through an intermediary. Draining though it was, she had no choice but to sacrifice stamina for stability and control the magic directly. A fatal flaw of her plan was that if Robin simply elected to standby and do nothing, Reflet would soon enough be forced dispel her magic and return to the ground, far too weakened from the gambit's failure to present any vestige of a threat.

But Robin would come. She knew that he would. Even without taking into account what she had seen firsthand of his personality, a resonance deep within told her that he would invariably chase after her.

She had a trap, of course. It would be stupid not to. That wasn't to say that this would be enough to stop Robin, but it would at the very least distract him from the real danger. Dodge the snare, only to stumble into the pit. All she had to do was wait, and he would come, and then he would fall.

_"Acrobat!"_

Robin leapt up with a burst of strength strong enough to spread a ring of dust beneath him. Then he leapt again from midair, and then yet again, each bound taking him ten feet, each step making audible the clash between magic and atmosphere. In the time that it took Reflet to register that her brother was moving, he had already landed on the platform that held her, standing hardly more than a foot away.

Reflet's reaction was less than gracious.

" _Ohgodsshitwhat?!_ " she screamed as she scrambled to her feet, nearly forgetting in in her startled state to hide the spell in her left hand behind her back.

Robin grinned. "Hello, Sister. Fancy meeting you up here!"

"Are you even human?!" Reflet shouted incredulously.

Robin narrowed his eyes. "That's..." He was silent for a moment. "... _Yes._ "

"Y-You hestitated!" Reflet yelled, jabbing a finger at him. "Why did you hesitate?!"

"Nothing to concern yourself over," Robin replied nonchalantly, crossing his arms. "After all, you have a few more pressing worries at the moment. Say, for example, terminal velocity, our close proximity, or perhaps your exhaustion from having to maintain such a strenuous succession of spells."

Reflet grimaced.

Robin glanced down at the crowd and the floor below. "Well, it seems you're out of moves. That would make this checkmate, I suppose."

His sister didn't reply. Keeping her left hand concealed, she defiantly drew her bronze sword with her right.

Robin smirked, eyes focused on where his sister's arm had disappeared behind her back. "Trying pretty hard to sell the bluff, aren't we?" he asked.

Reflet tensed up, but maintained her composure.  _It's fine. It's fine if he knows. Don't panic, don't panic._ She stepped forward.

Her brother quirked an eyebrow. "Come on now. We both know that's nothing more than a base  _Thunder_  spell. A simple ruse to draw me up here and into the range of whatever trap you rigged on the way up. You can't hurt me with that, and you're not going to get a lucky shot off with your sword. So what are you going to do? Drop the floor out from beneath us?"

Reflet pouted. "I might." She inched closer.

Robin cricked his neck, already channeling magic into his feet. A light nudge to send Reflet over the edge,  _Acrobat_  to save her,  _Arcwind_  to save himself. A simple order of operations.

Reflet lunged, her sword aimed straight at Robin's throat. Her brother fluidly drew his own sword in the blink of an eye, batting its bronze counterpart aside. With a flick of the wrist, he yanked Reflet's weapon out of her hand, sending it tumbling to the ground below.

At this moment, Reflet delivered her true attack. She jammed her right arm forward, her spell still tethered by her fingers. Robin reflexively caught his sister by the wrist, the woman's hand halted inches from his face. Robin smiled. Even if Reflet released this point blank, it wouldn't change the fact that this spell couldn't hurt him.

The man blinked as he beheld what appeared to be a large, light-filled marble.

... _Wait a second._

He realized with a start that what he was seeing was a  _Thunder_  spell contained within a miniature barrier spell.

_Oh, SHI-_

" _Reflet!_ " his sister screamed, covering her eyes with her free arm as she dissolved the barrier spell, finally unleashing the luminescence. Light and lightning poured forth from her hand, covering them both in overwhelming brightness.

For a moment, Robin felt nothing. And then, all at once, everything went a searing white. He snarled, releasing his sister to claw at his face. Though the light spell had done no actual damage, its intensity had temporarily blinded him. Robin's well-honed survival instincts instantly kicked in, and he had to force himself to not reflexively cut down his sister.

Reflet grinned coyly and snapped her fingers.

" _Gotcha."_

A barrier sphere formed around Robin. He stiffened, realizing the sudden change in air pressure boded poorly for him.

Reflet clapped her hands, then conjured a long ramp that connected her platform to the audience stands below. She smiled, then unceremoniously shoulder tackled the prismatic cage Robin was trapped in. The ball went rolling down, giving the surprised Feroxi only seconds to clear a path. The sphere collided with wooden seating, exploding in a cloud of light and splinters and leaving a disoriented, disheveled Robin lying on his back.

A complete silence overtook the audience for one moment.

"Champion Robin has gone out-of-bounds!" Raimi shouted a tad too gleefully from her judge's stand. " _He is disqualified!_ "

The crowed erupted into cheers, applause, and a few isolated brawls.

* * *

" _Son of a bitch!_ " Basilio shouted, slamming his fists on the table in front of him hard enough to knock over his tankard. He slumped back in his seat and clapped a hand to his forehead. "You godsdamn idiot! I told you to finish her off, you showboating asshole! Gods _dammit!_ " He glowered at Flavia. "And stop  _smiling_  like that, woman!"

"Oh lighten up, Oaf. That was the best show we've seen in at least a decade."

Basilio scowled. "I don't care how cutesy that little trick was. Winning should have been child's play for Robin." He paused. "Did that bastard set me up? Gods as my witnesses, if he did..."

Flavia shrugged. "Ever the conspiracy theorist, I see. Your champ got cocky and got dropped on his head for it, plain and simple. Remember that one time with Lon'qu and the Valmese girl?"

" _That_  was a separate issue entirely and you know it." Basilio leaned back in his chair. "Hmph. Whatever. Congratulations on your victory, Flavia. Even if Marth wins against the Ylissean prince, the lad's still got three or four opponents left in fighting shape. He's good, but he's not  _that_  good."

Flavia cracked a grin. "Hey, cheer up, Basilio. Tell you what, at the celebration feast I'll crack open that pre-Schism vintage I've been saving."

Basilio's eye widened. "Well hell, I would've  _given_  you the Head Khanship for that!"

* * *

Robin stared up at the domed ceiling, paying no mind to the Feroxi cursing him out for costing them their bets.

"...I lost?" he asked, dazed. " _I_  lost?! I  _actually_  lost?!  _Me_?! On a  _technicality_?!"

He blinked, then cracked a broad smile.

"Ha... Hahahahaha!"

* * *

"My word!" Virion murmured. "She actually triumphed! To think that such a beautiful face could conceal such a brilliant mind!"

Maribelle sniffed. "Well, I suppose she performed adequately. Still, it was a rather tasteless victory, abusing the restrictions of this country's laws and traditions in such a disrespectful manner."

"Oh lighten up, Maribelle!" Lissa grinned. "Reflet was awesome! And did you see the look on Robin's face while he was spinning like that?! Pfffheeheehahaha!" The princess's laughter quickly devolved into a fit of snorting.

Kellam coughed. "Um, not to detract from Reflet or anything, but I think that Robin fellow might have been holding back a bit."

As one, everyone in the box turned to look at the knight. Lissa broke the silence. "Oh man! Kellam, where did you go?! You missed the coolest fight!"

"I-I never left..."

* * *

Reflet wearily walked down her ramp, dispelling it with a wave of a hand after she reached the balcony's edge. Exhausted, she staggered over to a still-intact seat and flopped down into it. She ignored the clamor of congratulations from the nearby audience and Raimi's announcement of her disqualification, too focused on simply catching her breath.

_Sorry everyone... But I think I'm just going to sit the rest of this one out._

She glanced down at her brother, who still lay where he had been deposited. "What are you smiling about?"

"I'm just pleasantly surprised, is all," Robin responded. He sat upright. "That was a novel little plan you came up with. I never would have thought of using your spell's counterattack function just to produce a high-intensity light. It seems I don't have to worry about leaving the Shepherds in capable hands."

Reflet crossed her arms and tilted her chin. "I don't need your praise. Now then, as promised, you'll tell me everything you know of me since I defeated you."

Robin narrowed his eyes. "I said no such thing."

His sister cracked open one of hers. "Worth a shot."

Robin laughed lightly, then sprung to his feet. He walked over to the balcony and leaned on it, intently watching Lucina.

Reflet stared off into space. "Say, Robin? Just how much  _did_  you hold back against me?"

He glanced back at her. "How much do you think?"

She frowned. "I dunno. A lot. More than I'm comfortable with. At the very least I know I shouldn't have won that fight."

Robin wagged his finger. "Ah-ah-ah. For a tactician, there's no such thing as  _should have_  or  _shouldn't have_. Hubris is just another factor to work to your advantage. I lost, and that's all there is to it."

Reflet shrugged. "I guess. All I know is I don't feel as good about this as I thought I would. Like I've been cheated or something."

"Well, now you have a goal to work toward. Maybe next time you'll be able to reach ten percent."

"Are you shitting me?! That wasn't even ten percent?!"

"Of course it wasn't. It's not like I had to use  _Ignis_ or anything."

"The hell is  _Ignis_?!"

"Exactly."

Reflet growled. "Whatever. How's Chrom doing?"

"Getting his ass kicked."

The female tactician grimaced. "Oh... So he's gonna lose?"

Robin smiled. "Not a chance."

* * *

Lucina and Chrom circled each other, both breathing heavily. The prince was covered in blood, his clothing torn from multiple close calls. The princess, on the other hand, had fared far better; a few bruises and a nick or two were the extent of her injuries. From an outsider's perspective, "Marth" was undoubtedly on the verge of claiming victory.

That didn't matter to Chrom in the slightest, though. The prince charged forward, swinging Falchion low with brutal force. Lucina deflected it with a parry Robin had taught her, but Chrom turned on a dime and used his momentum to swing like a windmill at his opponent's head from the other direction. Lucina flicked her blade upward, bracing the flat of her Falchion with her forearm as she caught the blow. She was nearly knocked from her feet, but retained her balance and dragged the Parallel Falchion across its counterpart's edge, pressing in on a defenseless Chrom.

The prince didn't panic. He unhanded his sword and deftly stepped to the side, his opponent's blade falling within a hair's breadth of him. He lashed out and grabbed the Parallel Falchion by its cross-guard's opening before Lucina could reorient her weapon, then heaved with all of his might, dragging his daughter off her feet momentarily as she clung to her sword. The woman yelped in surprise as her own momentum propelled her forward and past the prince. Chrom gyrated on the ball of his foot and shoulder tackled Lucina in the back, sending the princess sprawling. She landed in a rough somersault, almost immediately regaining her footing with a feline grace as she pivoted to face her opponent. However, this reprieve granted Chrom enough time to retrieve his own weapon, and just like that, they were back to the same situation they had been in moments prior. They glared at each other, then re-engaged, blades flying through the air.

Lucina could feel an ache growing within her chest. This man's existence was a fallacy. There was no reason for her memories to be stirred by this impostor, no matter how convincing his facade. There was no reason for each of his movements to distract her; their familiarity was an illusion. This man was an obstacle to overcome, not her father. She merely needed to keep that in mind. This man was not her father.

Time stilled as Chrom swung his sword, and suddenly Lucina was four years old again, watching her father demonstrate his technique on training dummies. She could hear his voice, cheerful and confident. She could see the kind glow in his eyes, and the sunlight shining over the Brand of the Exalt he was so proud of.

Her momentary recall costed her, and she was jarred from her reverie just as her Falchion was wrested from her hands. The regalia went tumbling, landing on the floor with a resounding clatter. Lucina lunged for her weapon, but in a flash Chrom drove his own Falchion through the hole in the hilt of the other, trapping it in place. Lucina stopped short, kneeling with a hand futilely outstretched. Chrom calmly yanked his sword out of the ground, then brought its blade to rest near the former exalt's neck. Lucina was utterly silent. She knew that she was supposed to lose this fight. She knew that she had in fact done so. But even still, she didn't want this exchange to end. She didn't want this connection to waver. There was a desire in her to reach for her blade, to rise to this challenge.

The fact of the matter, though, was that Chrom had won. Lucina quietly held up her arms, palms upturned in the Feroxi gesture for surrender.

"I am bested," she admitted.

The crowd roared as Raimi announced the outcome of the match, and with it, the entire tournament. Chrom was not one to revel in adulation, though. He smiled brightly and extended his hand. "That was an excellent battle. You fought valiantly and skillfully; you should be proud."

Lucina wordlessly took his hand, and in that instant, as she met his gaze, the last of her resistance shattered.

This was her father. Alternate realities and time paradoxes be damned, this was her father.

Chrom hoisted his daughter to her feet. The woman looked away doggedly, refusing to reconnect eye contact lest her composure crumble. "I appreciate your words," she said hoarsely. She grabbed her sword off of the ground, then hastily sheathed it and hurried toward one of the arena doors, blinking furiously from the stinging in her eyes.

The prince hesitated, feeling an odd compulsion to call after his retreating opponent, but he stifled it. That was not his place. So instead he turned toward his approaching comrades, eager to share in the celebration of their victory.

* * *

Robin leaned his chin on his palm. Even at this distance, he could tell something had been off with Lucina's body language as she had exited the arena floor. He frowned.

Reflet was draped over banister beside him. "Man, that was awesome. Did you see that thing he did where he dropped his sword?"

"Yeah, classic Chrom," Robin replied distantly.

Reflet glanced at her brother. "What, are you bummed that your friend lost?"

"Oh no, not in the slightest. However, I don't think my opinion on that is the one that matters right now." He glanced about as he pulled up his mental schematics of Arena Ferox, cross-referencing the layout to determine where Lucina was headed and what route would take him to her most quickly. "C'mon. I need to find Marth, and you'll probably want to catch up with the others. I'll show you the way."

Reflet quirked an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Sure." She stood up, then faltered from a flood of lightheadedness.

Robin shot a concerned eye at his sister. "Something wrong?"

She waved dismissively. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a bit exhausted."

Robin nodded, then gestured to the far door. Reflet followed after him quietly, and the silence that grew as they passed through corridors and stairwells became permeated with an awkward air.

After some minutes, Robin halted before a large door. "Ok, you just need to go down here and take the third left. I'll be going to find Marth."

Reflet's response was delayed. "...Is this how it's going to be from now on? You show up, do something without explaining anything, then just disappear as it suits you? Are we just pawns to you?"

The corner of Robin's mouth twinged. "No. Get that thought out of your head right now. Everything I'm doing is for the sake of you all."

"Do you have any idea how full of shit you sound right now?" Reflet growled. "Listen up, Mr. Time Traveler-"

Robin's eyes widened. "Wha-?! How did-" He paused. "...Chrom?"

"Chrom."

"Right then, that one's on me for forgetting how godsdamn indiscreet he is."

" _See?_ " Reflet snapped. "You aren't willing to tell me anything! I'm not a puppet, Robin! You don't have the right to try and make me behave the way you want me to!"

"...I'm sorry. Really, I am. It's just..." Robin held out his right hand, spreading his fingers wide. "Knowing what I know, I can't sit by and do nothing. Our past is darkness, but I can still make our future brighter."

"Give me a godsdamn break! You're just on some power trip! You know what? I don't care! I don't need you! Get your self-satisfaction however you want, but leave me the hell out of it, you-"

"Chrom dies."

Reflet's words turned to ash in her mouth. "...What?"

"And so does Lissa, and Frederick, and Sully and Virion, and every single other Shepherd you've met. And not just them. Every last person you will ever call friend, every single person I ever _did_  call friend, will perish alongside them."

Reflet took a step backward. "Th-That's crazy. I don't believe you!"

"That's fine. If I have my way, then for you, what I described will never be anything more than an unpleasant thought."

Reflet felt uneasy. Robin's conviction was too sincere, too self-assured. He believed everything he said with absolute certainty.

But that was preposterous. He couldn't truly be from the future. Never mind the age gap between supposed "twins". Never mind how impossibly advanced his powers were in comparison to hers. Never mind that haunted look hiding in the furthest depths of his expression.

"If..." Reflet hesitated. "L-Let's say I accept what you're saying. How does concealing things from me save Chrom?"

"It doesn't. It's completely unrelated. It's entirely for your sake, because your own fate is far worse."

Reflet locked eyes with her brother, trying to gauge him. Robin's gaze was hard and resolute.

He suddenly smiled. "Amazing. You're not frightened by that at all."

She blinked, then scowled. "Hey, you could still be a madman for all I know. Why should I be scared of your ravings?"

Robin laughed lightly.

"So I die, then?" Reflet questioned.

"Death would be a kindness in comparison."

"Then what's my alternative? What are you planning for me?"

Robin grinned. "A completely ordinary life."

Reflet pressed her palm to her temple, sighing. She abruptly jabbed Robin in the chest with her finger. "Let me set this straight. I don't like this. In fact, there's a decent chance I just don't like  _you_." She folded her arms. "But... Ff what you say is true, and muddling about in the dark is what it costs me to keep Chrom safe, then I suppose I can deal with that."

"He means that much to you already?"

Reflet put her hands on her hips, cheeks reddening. "Well it's not like I have much else for a frame of reference, asshole!"

Robin stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Gods, you are such a prat!" Reflet snarled. She turned on her heel, making for the door.

"Reflet. Wait, wait."

"What?!" she barked.

"Right now, it's not safe for me to tell you the things you want to know. But someday, that will change. And on that day, I promise I'll tell you absolutely everything I can. I swear it."

She pointedly looked away. "...Whatever. Don't think I won't hold you to that." She passed through the door, leaving Robin alone.

He stared at the exit for some moments, then set out for the eastern wing.

* * *

Lucina leaned against a corridor wall, her mask held limply in one hand as she used the other in an attempt to stem the flow of tears.

"You alright?"

She suppressed the impulse to re-don her mask; she knew whom that voice belonged to.

"I... I'm fine, thank you," she answered. She sniffed, then smiled. "I do not ordinarily cry this often, I swear."

Robin grinned. "Hey, I'm in no position to judge. When I woke up in this world I was sobbing like a baby." He leaned his back against the wall next to her. "So... Can I take it that you've found your answer?"

Lucina sighed softly, rubbing her eye with her palm. "It's strange, but... When I fought Chrom, it was as if I was a child once more. It was so vivid..."

Robin surveyed her quietly.

"I decided that in my eyes, Chrom and my father are one and the same," she continued. "Well, it's not so much that I decided. More so that I realized. But regardless, I've no intention of quibbling over semantics any longer. I want to save Chrom. I want to save my father."

"And you will," Robin assured. " _We_  will."

Lucina smiled. "Thank you. But I think that's easier for you to say. After all, how can I protect someone I can't even defeat?"

Robin quirked an eyebrow. "You know, I lost too."

The princess put a finger to her chin, pondering. "Yes, I suppose that's right. Hmm. With your sister's reputation, I expected your plans to be a bit more airtight."

Robin looked wounded for a moment. "Hey! The plan still worked! A few specifics just varied from what I projected, that's all!"

"That was... a joke?"

Robin blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Really?"

Lucina frowned. "A poor one, I take it. I'm told humor has never been my forte."

Robin laughed. "Trust me, I'm not surprised. Don't worry though. I can cover for the both of us in the wit department. And hey, if you hang around me long enough, maybe you'll get a knack for it."

Lucina looked up at the ceiling. "That would be nice. The others always seemed happy when they were laughing."

Robin snapped his fingers. "Speaking of which...!"

The former whirled her head toward the tactician in expectation.

"We've got some time to kill before the assassination attempt," Robin said. "Kjelle should be showing up in northern Ferox any day now, so we'll go find her. And since the Shepherds are heading back to Ylisse, we'll have them pick up Laurent from the Mirage Villages. Poor bastard's already been there for three years..."

"And the others?!" Lucina asked excitedly.

Robin frowned. "Sorry, but that's all for now. Noire and Nah do arrive in Ferox, but by their accounts they didn't arrive until after we had already concluded the Valm campaign. We'd be wasting time searching for them if they're not even here yet."

Lucina sighed dejectedly. "I understand. Well, regardless, any reunion will be a blessing."

Robin nodded, then stood up straight. "C'mon, we should go talk to Chrom. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can leave. I... kind of want to get the hell out of here without having to speak with Basilio."

The princess slipped her mask back on and fell into step with the man. "How surprising. Even the mighty Robin has people he's afraid of?"

The tactician scowled. "For someone who can't tell a joke to save her life, you're obnoxiously good at teasing." He shrugged. "Basilio's probably a little sore right now, and his temper can flare quickly, but he generally keeps an even head. I can patch things up with him later, but I don't want to deal with a confrontation right this moment." He craned his neck. "Pity we'll be missing out on that feast, though..."

Lucina became alert. "Feast?"

"Down, girl. We're probably not invited anyway. Spoils to the victors and all that."

She pouted. "Oh..."

"Yes, yes, such is the thorny path we tread," Robin responded, waving his hand. He suddenly paused. "Oh, wait a minute!"

"What is it?"

"If Vaike was Lissa's husband in your world, then he couldn't have been Miriel's like in mine. Who's Laurent's father then?"

"Sir Stahl."

Robin stared blankly ahead, then squinted in confusion. "What?  _How?_  Why is your timeline so godsdamn  _weird_?"

"I can't confess to thinking it any stranger than Sir Stahl having been wed to Lady Sully as in your world."

"They're the Bull and the Panther, of course they go together!" Robin retorted, clearly mildly exasperated.

"Well, then what of Sir Kellam, if he was not married to Lady Sully?"

"He married Panne. Something about how she was the only one who could always tell where he was."

Lucina's jaw dropped. "But Lady Panne goes so splendidly with Sir Ricken!"

Robin's hands flew up to his hair. "What?  _What?!_  Are you listening to yourself right now? Are you listening to the insanity spilling forth from your own mouth?! In what godsdamn world does that partnership make even one freaking iota of sense?!"

Lucina came to a halt. "Robin..."

"I mean putting aside the offsetting age discrepancy, what about their completely disparate personalities?" he asked, gesturing animatedly. "Under what circumstances would she fall for him?! They don't even mesh well on the battlefield! Trust me,  _I_  would know!"

"Robin..." Lucina repeated, voice somewhat more urgent.

"I mean if there's anyone Ricken should end up with, it's clearly Ma-"

" _Robin!_ "

He blinked, stopping short. Caught up in his ranting, he had failed to notice that a figure was in their path. Virion approached at a brisk pace, smiling freely.

"Ah, what fortune!" the archest of archers called out. "I feared you had already departed. You see, I have urgent business with you, Sir Robin."

The tactician quirked an eyebrow.

... _Valm?_  he thought.

Robin folded his arms. "No need to call me 'Sir'. We're friends, after all."

Virion tilted his head. "Much to my chagrin, I must once again admit that I hold no recollection of our initial acquaintance. I fear that as a friend, you must find me woefully inadequate."

Robin shrugged, waving his hand dismissively. "It's fine, it's fine. Not your fault. Don't worry about it." He gave Virion an assessing look-over. "Well, I already have a guess, but what brings you to me, Virion?"

"A matter of dire necessity, I'm afraid." The archer glanced at Lucina. "My masked friend, might I ask that I speak with your compatriot in private?"

Robin shook his head. "Any matters you wish to discuss with me can be spoken of with Marth present."

Virion pursed his lips. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid I must insist. The specifics of this conversation are of grave importance, and require the utmost delicacy and secrecy."

Robin grinned. "Is that so, Duke Virion of Rosanne?"

The nobleman's eyes widened in shock, words failing him as he struggled to register the implications of a compromised identity.

"You rather enjoy doing that, don't you?" Lucina murmured.

"Oh yeah, it's the best," Robin exclaimed, clearly amused by the reaction his revelation had elicited. "There's nothing like letting someone know that you know things they don't want you to know."

Virion quickly gathered his wits, recollecting his composure. He cleared his throat. "Yes, quite. Unfortunately, you've just now put me in a rather perilous predicament." The man silently slipped his hand closer to the blade concealed in his doublet. If, in the worst case, these two were servants of Valm, then Virion recognized that he had no chance of overcoming them in combat. He cursed himself for not having the foresight or patience to choose a venue to approach Robin that afforded viable escape routes.

Robin sensed his friend's trepidation. "Whoa, easy, easy. We're not your enemies, nor are we friends of Valm."

Virion's brows shot up, but he immediately became suspicious. "Pray tell, how is it that you know of Virion, then? I took great pains to elude my pursuers. There should be none on this continent aware of my presence."

Robin scratched his chin. "Hrmm. Well, I don't really want to answer that. But I'm well aware you're a man of reasoning, so let me posit this: If I was a Valmese agent, would I not dispose of you immediately? Your existence only threatens to serve as an impediment for an invasion."

The duke pondered. "That is a rational assumption. I will not pretend that you could not do it."

"Good, good. So let's cut to the chase then. We'll definitely help you with the Valm crisis when the moment comes. But the domestic affairs of this continent are going to necessitate our attention before we can focus on Walhart. War is on the horizon."

Virion grimaced. "Yes, so I've gathered."

"Well then, as I'm sure you've already deduced, the Conqueror stepping foot on our shores while we're in the midst of quarreling with ourselves would be catastrophic. So for now, we need to focus on ensuring that Ylisse and Regna Ferox triumph over Plegia."

"I can attest to the necessity of that," Lucina added.

Virion seemed distraught. "You would ask that I ignore the plight of my countrymen?"

"They'll endure," Robin replied. "Regrettably, they don't have an alternative." He stepped forward and clapped a reassuring hand on Virion's shoulder. "But you can be certain that someday they'll be free again."

"How can you be so sure, though? If Walhart has time to solidify his armies, then there'll be no stopping him! You can't imagine the expanse of his host!"

"Over a million men, right?"

Virion stared, dumbfounded. Robin had listed that imposing figure as if it were merely an interesting factoid.

"There's not much point in trying to keep Walhart from unifying his forces if we don't have our shit together yet either. And he has to fragment his armies in order to mount an expedition across the Long Sea. We'll repel the initial invasion, then take the fight to him."

"Repel the invasion?! The Fourth Division alone would be enough to take Ferox by itself!"

Robin grinned darkly. "And what if I told you I knew of a way to annihilate Admiral Ignatius's navy before they ever make landfall?"

Virion and Lucina both became alert at this. "What?" the duke exclaimed. "But surely that is impossible! Valm's navy has no equal!"

"Then it shall remain the greatest unto its destruction," Robin smirked. His face suddenly twinged, and he could smell oil and smoke. A wave of nausea overtook him as he recalled the screams of burning men. He staggered, bracing himself against the wall suddenly.

"Robin?!" Lucina asked, alarmed.

He shook his head. "Sorry to worry you. I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "That was wrong of me. I shouldn't have made light of that. But I assure you, my plan will work. With no navy to speak of, the Valmese army will be landlocked, allowing us the luxury of choosing our point of arrival. And what's more, I think I have an inkling of how to make Yen'fay defect."

Virion looked at the tactician in confusion. "But Yen'fay is a traitor in the first place. He sold his soul and his country in his search for glory."

"His situation isn't as straightforward as you think. Let's just say that the Valmese are holding something over him. I just have to figure out how to get him out from under that weight."

The nobleman ran a hand through his azure hair. "It seems you've given this all quite some thought. I'm ashamed; I fear I have not been diligent enough. I have no machinations to match yours."

Robin smiled. "Well, you're still better at chess than I am. Only person who ever has been."

Virion's expression brightened. "Oh! You play? Well, then I will have to ask for a game at some other time." He blinked. "Ah, how contemptible I am. My subjects suffer, yet here I am thinking about petty amusement."

Robin frowned, but Virion's moment of self-deprecation passed almost immediately.

The archer spread his arms. "Well then, my friend, with that grandiose showing you put on earlier today, and the exemplary plan of action you have outlined, I am willing to trust you with my cause. What would you ask of me?"

Robin scratched his head. "I would say... Just keep on with the Shepherds, and act at your own discretion. You're quite capable in your own right; I know I can trust you to have sound judgment."

Virion inclined his head. "Very well. I am deeply grateful, Robin, and to you as well... Sir Marth, was it? I look forward to the happy day when I can invite you to share drinks with me in my palace courtyard." He straightened his back. "Now then, I must beg your leave. Virion has many affairs he must spare his attention to."

Robin tilted his head. "If you're talking about that one Feroxi barmaid with the wrist tattoo, let me just warn you right now that that's not going to go well.  _At all._ "

The archer laughed with mock embarrassment. "I assure you, I am acting with the intention of fostering my information network." He stroked his chin. "But if I could foster something in her heart at the same time..."

Robin shrugged. "Well, I mean, that's your own personal mistake, so I won't get involved. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Virion bowed with a flourish, then turned to take his leave.

Robin suddenly recalled Virion throwing himself into Draco's line of fire in order to shield Cherche. The tactician felt compelled to convey a strong sentiment to his friend.

"Virion, wait!"

The duke turned, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Virion, you... You aren't a coward."

The nobleman was taken aback both by the abrupt nature of this declaration, and by the determination in Robin's expression. "I see," the archer replied. "Well, Virion was already well aware of this fact, but I appreciate your having taken notice of it." With that he walked off, soon disappearing from view.

Lucina looked up at Robin's face, which bore an uneasy expression. "What was that about?" she asked.

Robin grimaced. "Nothing. C'mon, let's go find Chrom."

* * *

The Shepherds had gathered in the arena's lobby, split into pockets of conversation.

"Reflet, you were  _sooooo_  cool!" Lissa gushed.

The tactician sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "It was nothing, really. I just got lucky."

Vaike lightly shook Lissa by the shoulder. "H-Hey, hey! What about Teach? Wasn't I pretty cool too? I totally Vaiked that knight guy!"

Lissa nearly burst out laughing. "'Vaiked'? You  _Vaiked_  that guy? Did you seriously just try to turn your name into a verb?!"

The fighter flushed. "S-So what if I did?! The Vaike is a pioneer in the field of lingerie!"

Lissa doubled over, clutching her sides as she laughed hysterically. Reflet couldn't help but giggle as well.

"What? What's so funny?" Vaike questioned in befuddlement.

Stahl sighed and clapped him on the back. "Just chalk this one up as a loss and move on, big guy."

"Do not coddle him, Stahl," Miriel chided. "Vaike, your application of your most limited vocabulary was incongruous with your intended sentiment."

"...Huh?"

"The word you sought can be inferred to be 'linguistics', an irony in and of itself. However, 'lingerie', the word you erroneously applied, refers to specialized undergarments worn by women for the purpose of arousing their sexual partners."

Vaike digested this information for a moment, then put his hands to his head and screamed.

"Hey now Miriel, don't you think that was a bit uncalled for?" Stahl asked. "It's not Vaike's fault he's a bit on the...  _slow_  side. He probably never would've figured that out if you hadn't told him."

"I find the phrase 'ignorance is bliss' to be utterly contemptible," Miriel replied. "A lack of knowledge is hardly an excuse not to seek it out, even for outliers such as Vaike."

"Haha, well, The Vaike  _is_  pretty out there," the fighter grinned, mortification already overcome.

Miriel pursed her lips. "Vaike's...  _uniqueness_  aside, something has caught my attention about  _you_ , Stahl."

"M-Me?" he stammered, cheeks flushing.

"Yes. During the tournament, you finished your battle at the same time as Sully did hers. Together, you were both the fourth and fifth victors. The number of Shepherds who finished their matches before you and the number of those who finished afterward were equal. This only drew my attention because it occurred to me that this pattern has been consistent in footraces, weight-lifting, and sparring. And in a quick poll of some one hundred audience members, your popularity was middling. In other words, you appear decidedly average at all things, a characteristic so abnormal as to be paradoxical."

"H-How did you poll that many people so quickly?"

Miriel's glasses obscured her eyes with their sheen. "I have my methods. Which you will soon learn firsthand, as I intend to commit a battery of experiments upon you."

"I really don't care for the way you phrased that just now."

Miriel suddenly craned her neck. "Oh. Another potential research subject of note."

Stahl glanced over his shoulder to see Robin and Marth walking toward Chrom. "Uh, should we be stopping them?"

"They're fine," Lissa reassured. "Robin's a friend. Right, Reflet?"

"Um... Yeah," she replied.

"No worries," Vaike added. "Chrom can handle himself. Teach knows that better than anyone. And if they do cause trouble, then The Vaike can totally Vaike them."

"Statistically impossible," Miriel rebutted. "Preliminary analysis of your combat specifications indicates conclusively that Robin is capable of terminating you from where the both of you currently stand."

"Say again?"

Lissa snickered. "He would totally kick your butt, Vaike."

* * *

"Ah, Robin!" Chrom exclaimed in greeting as the tactician approached, Marth trailing close behind. The prince grinned. "I hope you're not upset. We might have thrown your strategies for a bit of a loop."

Robin put his hands behind his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Everything went according to plan."

Chrom's face scrunched in confusion. "What are you talking about? We won, so Basilio los-" He abruptly trailed off, gaping for a moment. "Wait a minute...! You son of a bitch! You wanted Flavia to win all along, didn't you?! You  _lied_  to me!"

Robin cleaned his ear with his finger absentmindedly. "Now, now, let's not get upset over who set up whom. Things worked out, didn't they? Ylisse has its alliance now."

"Why couldn't you have just told me from the start?!"

"Because I needed you all to think you had something real at stake," Robin explained. "You wouldn't be able to push past your limits if you had some complacent notion that the outcome had already been determined." His umber eyes gleamed. "Tell me, Chrom. Do you feel stronger? Do you feel that you've taken a meaningful step forward?"

Chrom hesitated. "Well... Yes, I suppose..."

Robin bowed his head. "Then I would ask your forgiveness, but I suspect I don't need it."

"...Just don't make a habit of this, alright?"

Robin gave a genuine smile. "I'll try."

Chrom put his hands on his hips. "So, what's up? I get the feeling you're not here just to chat."

Robin sighed. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? Who knows, maybe I can convince Flavia to invite us to the celebration. But we can't linger too long. There's a lot of ground to covered in a limited amount of time, which brings me to my point: I'm afraid I need to ask a few favors of you."

Chrom shrugged. "Fire away."

"Well, firstly, Marth and I will be breaking away from the group again for a little while. We have some comrades in Ferox we need to locate, and a few villages to protect from Risen."

The prince scratched his chin. "Hmm. I suppose we owe the Feroxi. We could lend you our aid there."

Robin shook his head. "Not necessary. They're small-fry Risen, all crap I can handle without any fuss. Besides, you're needed back in Ylisse. You were probably already planning on suppressing Risen attacks, but I want to ask you to do a little recruiting while you're at it."

The prince raised an eyebrow. "Recruiting?"

"Right. First we need you to go to the Mirage Villages. You'll be looking for a man named Laurent. Fairly tall, blonde-"

Lucina elbowed him.

"- _olive_  hair, wears glasses and a funny hat like Miriel's."

"Like Miriel's?"

Robin glanced away. "Mage thing, I guess. Anyway, I drew this up for you." He pulled a sheet of parchment out of his pocket. "This explains all of the perils of the Shifting Dunes, the correct order of navigating the villages, and the location of the Goddess Staff."

Chrom's eyes shot wide. " _The Goddess Staff?!_ "

"Oh, so you'd heard of it before. Yeah, it'll look like a rusted piece of garbage, and no one we know can use it yet, but you might as well grab it so we don't have to bother with a return trip. Anyway, when you find Laurent, tell him that you were sent by Marth."

"I will write a letter to confirm my identity to him," Lucina supplied.

"Oh, good idea," Robin said. "That'll probably be all he needs to see. Ah, and this shouldn't be an issue, but steer clear of any bandits you encounter. They're well armed and you're not at a collective level where you can handle them yet. Don't worry about the civilians; they know how to make their villages disappear when necessary."

Chrom skimmed the map and accompanying notes. "Alright..."

"And after that, I need you to dip down to the Farfort. A young man named Donnel lives there, and he has the potential to be one of the greatest Shepherds. He'll need your help repelling a bandit raid on his hometown."

Chrom nodded. "We'll see what we can do."

Robin grinned. "Great, thank you. After that you've got free rein. But whatever you decide to do, you  _absolutely_  must be back in Ylisstol three months from now, before the-" He hesitated, then glanced toward Lucina. "New moon?"

"New moon," she nodded.

"What he said. We might meet up with you again before then, but if not, you can be certain that's where we'll be at that time."

"For what reason?"

Robin grimaced. "You remember that thing where I have to not tell you certain information you want to know?"

Chrom growled. "Yeah, alright, I get it."

"Sorry, buddy."

Chrom shrugged. "Well, you haven't led us astray so far. You could have really made things a mess for us if you had felt like it. I trust you. We'll do as you ask." He looked toward Lucina. "Marth, I hope we can cross blades under more friendly circumstances next time."

"Y-Yes..." Lucina replied.

Robin smiled. "Thanks for your help, Chrom. Now, as much as it pains me to pass up on Feroxi spirits, I think we'd best take our leave before Basilio finds us."

"Yes, that would have been a solid plan," a deep voice said from behind him.

"Ah shit."

Robin turned around. "Khan Basilio! What a surprise, meeting you here in the arena you own!"

"Not anymore I don't." Basilio leaned in, eye narrowed. " _Explain._ "

An idea flashed through Robin's mind, and he immediately acted upon it. "Ahaha! You got me, sir! I was feeling, um, charitable, so I decided to go a little bit easy on my opponent. I mean, how else could I possibly have lost?" He laughed, straining his face in a way that he hoped would be as unconvincing as possible.

Basilio inspected him a moment, then snorted. "Alright, I get it. She beat you for real and you're embarrassed about it." His expression darkened. "I mean, _it's not like you would be stupid enough to say something like that truthfully._ "

Robin had forgotten how intimidating Basilio could be. He mentally underlined the Khan's name on his shortlist of  _People Who Can Conceivably Kill Me_. "O-Of course sir. Sorry, sir," he replied with faux nervousness.

The khan snorted. "Whatever. I'll let it slide if you win me back the title next time."

Robin glanced at the Shepherds. "I don't mind, but by then Flavia might have a deeper pool of talent to select from."

"Men don't make excuses, boy," Basilio snapped. He turned toward Chrom. "Now then, I have a present for you, prince. You put on a pretty nice show. Unfortunately, your gift's being a bit of a bitch right now, so we'll have to save the introductions for later."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "Um... Thank you?"

"Don't mention it. Marth kicked Lon'qu's ass, and you kicked Marth's ass-"

"I'm standing right here..." Lucina muttered.

"-So you basically kicked Lon'qu's ass, and that's enough for me to lend him out to you."

Chrom tilted his head. "This Lon'qu is one of your champions, I take it?"

Basilio nodded. "A damn good one, too, the best we'd had in ages before you lot turned up. Speaking of which-" He jerked his head towards Reflet. "While we're on the topic of gifts, you should probably get the girl something nice. You owe a large part of this victory to her."

Chrom rubbed his chin. "Yeah, you're probably right." He cupped his hands over his mouth. "Hey, Reflet!" he called. "You remember that set of Holy War biographies you wanted? I'll get them for you!"

The female tactician's expression brightened, and she rushed over to the prince, flinging herself onto him in a tight hug. "Oh my gods Chrom, you're the best!"

Under normal circumstances, Lucina would have been capable of maintaining her composure in the face of this display. However, having just experienced a major emotional breakthrough in regard to her father, her self-control understandably slipped a small amount.

" _Get your hands off him, you... You..._ " She jabbed a finger at Reflet. " _Godsdamn harpy!_ "

Silence fell over the arena floor, all eyes fixated on the masked figure.

Robin was nothing if not resourceful. He took a great deal of pride in his ability to think on his feet and work his way out of tight situations.

But in this instance, he panicked.

"Hahahaha! Well, would you look at the time!" he shouted as he grabbed Lucina by the wrist. "It's about half past let's-get-the-hell-out-of-here-o'clock! Bye everyone, see you around!" He frantically dragged an unresistant Lucina out of the room.

"...What the hell was that about?" Reflet wondered as she awkwardly pulled away from Chrom.

"It was me sure knowing how to pick my champs," Basilio grimaced.

* * *

Robin led Lucina in silence, the pair taking staircase after staircase until they reached a balcony where the tactician was sure that they would remained undisturbed. He turned and faced her, arms crossed. She simply looked away.

"Gods above, Lucina!" Robin exclaimed. "What the hell was  _that_  all about?! What's the point of secrecy if you're going to pull shit like this?!"

She flushed, clearly embarrassed by her lapse in judgment. "It won't happen again."

Robin sighed in exasperation. "Are you sure? There's nothing wrong with wanting your parents to stay together, nor is there anything wrong with not wanting to interfere with their lives, but you can't halfass this shit!"

"W-Well, maybe I  _should_  interfere!" she retorted indignantly. "I know for certain that my parents made each other happy! I have no such assurances that Reflet will provide my father with the quality of life he deserves! And for all I know, she could be the trai-"

The princess abruptly stopped short, creating a palpable silence. Robin tensed up, suddenly realizing the inevitable line of inquiry that Lucina was about to take.

"Robin," she said without turning her head to look at him. "You know who murdered my father, don't you?"

There was no doubt in her voice. Robin grimaced, trying to think of a phrasing that wasn't an overt lie. "I... can't say for certain."

"How is that so? You already knew of the plot against Father's life. You must have encountered the traitor, and surely you of all people could have deduced their identity. So why is it that you've never mentioned whom they are? Why avoid-" Lucina suddenly went silent, and tension permeated the air. She turned to regard Robin coldly. "...I see. If you were to know without doubt the identity of the killer in your world, but in their place was a different person entirely in this one... You would be able to claim that you 'can't say for certain', wouldn't you?"

Robin said nothing. He knew where this was going.

"Now I understand the truth of why the other me tried to kill you." Lucina finally faced Robin fully, eyes burning fiercely as she removed her mask.

The man didn't meet her gaze, staring doggedly at a wall.  _Damn it all. Things were going well, too..._

Lucina's next words were almost verbatim what he expected them to be.

"Robin... It was you, wasn't it? You're the one who murdered my father, aren't you?"


End file.
